Marriage Material
by AtHeart150
Summary: Outlander Modern AU Jamie & Claire. Characters belong solely to Diana Gabaldon. I just tweak them.
1. Chptr 1: What's Love Got To Do With It?

Marriage Material - Chapter 1 What's Love Got to Do With It?

Claire POV

 _Whin Park._ I come to this the park for the sole purpose of running. I don't usually run for exercise because, quite honestly, I hate running. Period. I don't care for it as a physical activity. I rarely even play tennis because it involves running. I prefer Yoga, Pilates or just plain, old fashion walking, down a shopping avenue, would be nice. This is _our_ park. I choose to run here because it is where _we_ ran together. "My heart wants to run here because it reminds me of him. It makes me feel closer to him." There, I've admitted it. Said it out loud, all be it only to myself. But, I have vocalized it, put my feelings into words. It's not my fault no one is around to hear the declaration, unless the red squirrels count. Everyone who has seen us together, tells me they've always known that I've had it bad for _him_. It's written on my glass face. _Heart eyes_ his brother-in-law called it. Like a first kiss, the one you never forget. Well, I'd better get over it. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I am 36 years old. Too old for this shit.

You see, I fell. I fell for him hard and fast; like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute. Without a life line. The problem is, my feelings have never really been reciprocated. Which is alright, I mean, everyone has to be rejected at least once, right? The trouble is... _He_ is my one. The one I have been waiting for. My one and only. All those lovely movies I watched over the years have taught me what to look for. I watched all the great ones fall in love on the Big Screen... Bogie & Bacall, Tracy & Hepburn, Newman & Woodward, to name just a few. A few on TV as well, Harington & Leslie, Heughan & Balfe and Dallas & Goodwin come to mind. I sighed and laughed and cried my way through all their movies and shows. They taught me how to whistle, be smart & strong, the power an amazing pair of blue eyes can have on one's heart and that true love conquers all, including time. They were my guides on the path to recognizing true love and how to embrace it when I found it. They taught me not to settle, that I would know my soul mate the moment we met and that's honestly the way it happened too. I looked up to all 6' 3" of that beautifully chiseled man, with auburn-red hair, that had partly come loose from queue it had been restrained in. His face, with a chin like Cary Grant (all be it covered in blood from a head wound) held the most amazing blue eyes that melted my heart into a molten puddle of desire. His soft, pink lips in possession of almost a frown that I just wanted to kiss away. His voice with it's growling, rough burr melded inside an Scottish accent that sent shivers down my spine. When our fingers accidentally touched, I swear to you, I saw Fireworks! Seriously.

XXJAMMFXX

I took 20 minutes to work through my stretches: Leg lunges, side stretches, calf raises and hip rotations. I did my waist twists, shoulder pulls and neck circles. All the things _he_ showed me that I needed to do before I began each run. I felt all the kinks, pops and shifting of joints as I readied my body for my run. I felt muscles groan as I stretched and got the blood flowing; readying my frame for pain.

XXJAMMFXX

I have just come off 36 hours of rotations at Raigmore Hospital, where I am still currently employed as a Staff Surgeon. I volunteered to cover for my friend, peer and co-worker Joe Abernathy, who had to fly back to the States, unexpectedly; a Family Emergency of some sort. I like working in A it keeps my mind sharp and my skills honed. There is no routine; every day is different and provides new and unique challenges. You have to think quickly and sometimes off the cuff or outside the bubble. Right now I am wired on coffee. Double espresso, please, no cream, no sugar, thank you very much. That's what it takes to get me through a shift like that now. I'm not so young anymore.

XXJAMMFXX

I've finished my stretches and am ready to start my run. I pulled out my Iphone to find the play list I listen to when I run; the one _he_ made for me, to encourage me. I noticed I have twenty-two missed phone calls, all of which left messages and over three dozen texts. One is from Joe, probably to tell me he and Gail landed safely at Boston's Heathrow. Some are from various team members, two are from Lieutenant Murray and one from his wife. I wonder how she got my number? One is from the Lieutenant-Colonel, or The MacKenzie as the team refers to him. He tells me to call him Dougal, but I don't. That would be about my resignation (is it considered a resignation if you quit before you've even started a job?). I have no less than seven calls and a shit load of texts from Murtagh (oh I'm sorry – that would be Captain Fraser), as I expected. That would be _his_ godfather. And well, well... surprise, surprise... five are actually from him, the good Major, _Mr. Matchmaker_ himself. I refuse to call him back. We are no longer friends. I deleted everything, without reading or listening to any of them, except the calls from Joe and The Lieutenant-Colonel. I will call The MacKenzie back Monday; I know he will be busy today and recovering Sunday. Today he will be celebrating and he will be good and drunk before darkness settles over the Scottish Highlands. I do not interact with him when he is under the influence of alcohol. I had one rather bad experience at his wife's Soiree so I steer clear of him when he has partaken in the consumption of libations of the alcoholic variety. None of what the rest have said matters any more. I made a mental note to delete the contacts when I got home. I just need The Lieutenant-Colonel to understand that I resigned from the team. I cannot work with _h_ _im_ , especially after he returns from his honeymoon. It would hurt too much.

I broke my first rule... Never, ever, date a patient or a patient's direct family member and certainly never fall in love with one of them while you are very busy not dating them. Yes, well, truth is, we never actually dated, technically speaking. _He_ never, officially, asked me out, though at the time I don't think I really saw our meetings as anything less than dates. Probably because that's what I wanted them to be, and maybe even allowed myself to pretend that's what they were. I wanted to be his date, his steady, his girl. I might have even been alright with a friends with benefits deal, if the deal was exclusive (there's an oxymoron, right?).

It started innocently enough, just a cup of coffee in the hospital's cafeteria to discuss his brother-in-law's recovery. Fifteen minutes slipped easily into an hour of conversation and laughter. Certainly not a date, his godfather was there the entire time. Several times I managed to arrange a need for a hot tea and quiet place to working on patient notes, that conveniently coincided with his arrival to fetch a hot beverage or snack for his sister. Twice I was invited to meet up with his team at a nearby pub after visitation ended. We always ended up sitting next to each other, quietly talking, as everyone played darts or billiards and drank. That's where the running came from. He suggested it as a way for me to work off the stress from my 24/7 job. As encouragement, he even offered to run with me. We met at this park maybe a dozen times in the two weeks Lieutenant Murray was my patient. All of that stopped the day his brother-in-law was released from hospital.

When the running thing started... I suffered through it because it became something for us; I could count on an hour or two of just he and I. No one else. Our constant chaperon, his Godfather, doesn't run you see. The only running he claims he ever did was while he was sitting on the back of a horse. He said it's call galloping. I mean, Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I was running 5 - 6 miles a day just so I could be alone with the man. Seriously, who does that? Only an idiot, I suppose. That's when I admitted to myself that I was, quite possibly, hopelessly in love with the man.

XXJAMMFXX

On that pleasant thought, I jogged to the Great Glen Way . That's the path I use as a warm up; warm up the muscles and loosens the joints. Two laps are a mile. If I include the Bught Road path that runs the perimeter of the entire park, incorporating the Botanic Gardens and Bught Park Pitches it turns into approximately 2 ½ miles. 2 laps will make my ½ marathon workout. I try to run at least 5 miles a day, 5 days a week, in under an hour, which I have yet to achieve. On the 6th day, I run the full 12 (guess what day today is) and try for 2 ½ hours, which thus far has eluded me. On the 7th day I have off – I have to binge eat and catch up on my shows at some point, don't I? Besides, Sunday is the day of rest, right?

XXJAMMFXX

Recently, with the MacKenzie's job offer, running had turned into something I needed to do. It is a requirement for the new job I was to start in two weeks. Now I know it is an impossibility for me to work with _h_ _im_ , hence the quitting before I've even started. Sadly, the sole reason I was willing to give up my job at hospital, was because this new position would allow me to work more closely with him **.** I was to be the Lieutenant-Colonel's team medic. Now I will leave everything, including this hospital gig, and take pretty much whatever offer comes my way, just to get me out of Inverness, Scotland and hopefully Great Britain. I just need to get off this bloody island. Shit, I'd even take something in America; I wonder if Joe still has any connections in Boston...?

XXXJAMMFXX

I received my nurses training from Her Majesty's Armed Forces. Signed up for one tour at 18 and was deployed twice. I was a field nurse and a damn good one. I was requested quite often and moved to follow the rotations of doctors that asked for me. Sadly, I learned, it was not just my nursing skills they were desirous of. I can tell you that I have slapped plenty of doctors in my time as an army nurse. When my tour was up, the army sweetened the re-enlistment deal with an offer to send me to medical school. That's how I became a doctor. So by 22 I was in medical school by 27 I was a doctor. A year later I went back for specialty training and at 30 I was a board certified surgeon. I worked my residency years in the A&E at the Field Hospital at the Army Reserve Center. I did not much care for the loudness and confusion of London, retired from the army as soon as I could and accepted a position at Raigmore Hospital in Inverness.

XXJAMMFXX

It was the team's Lieutenant Ian Alastair Robert MacLeod Murray that brought me to The MacKenzie's attention in the first place. I think his injury during a simulation is what showed the advantage of having someone with my skill set along for the ride, so to speak. Lieutenant Murray is _h_ _is_ very own brother-in-law. Turns out Ian is the IT tech assigned to _h_ _is_ team. Little did I know, that my first meeting with Lieutenant Murray, would change my life forever.

The MacKenzie was in desperate need of a Field Medic when they were running simulation ops and I more than met the medical requirements and he was equally thrilled with the fact that I was militarily trained. I already had the security clearances he needed to hire me and I had grown up in a mostly a nomadic lifestyle, moved around a lot as a kid. I was raised by an Uncle, Dr. Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, a noted field archaeologist and we traveled from dig to dig until I signed on with the military. I am also single, never married; no husband or kids to run home to. The good Lieutenant-Colonel was practically drooling by the end of our first formal meeting. At some point, because of my ability to triage and stabilize, as well as thinking outside the box in dealing in limited environments, I was told by the Hospital Administrator, Sean Greene, that Lieutenant-Colonel Dougal MacKenzie had a need for a _weekend warrior,_ his words not mine, and the Lieutenant-Colonel had called in a favor and asked for me specifically. The hospital would loan me to the Lieutenant-Colonel on an "as needed" basis.

"Ye'll need to pass the physical, lass. Noth'n I ken do about that," The MacKenzie emphasized. "If ye can no' run 12 miles in under 2 ½ hours, ye won't pass and ye won't make the team" was the way he clarified any possible misunderstandings. So every day, for nearly three months, either before or after my shift's end, rain or shine, I would come to this park and run. I did it solely because I wanted so very desperately to work with _his_ team; I simply wanted to be near the man **.** That all came to an abrupt end three days ago, the night of the Stag Party.

XXJAMMFXX

I will complete the circuit twice. In an hour or less. It's no longer because I need to but rather because I don't quit something I've started. I will see this training through to the end, prove to myself that I could do it. Today I will run that 12 miles in under 2 ½ hours and that will be the end of it. I will leave all of this behind. _Him_ behind. I just want to complete the run, go back to my flat and fall into a coma for 20 + hours. I have to be back at hospital, Monday at 9am for a staff meeting. I will give Joe my resignation then.

I hit play, strap the Iphone to my arm, put my ear buds in and start my run. I will push for Marathon Pace. I won't last long, maybe only the half of the run but I need the pain. It won't be a relaxing run but at least it might be an anger reducing one. Maybe I will step in a puddle and it will swallow me whole. I note the time, 8:17am as I start down Great Glen Way watching for the Gaelic Tree Trail Markers. _New Rules_ by Dua Lipa starts to play.


	2. Chptr 2: Surgery & Stitches

Marriage Material – Chapter 2 Surgery and Stitches

Claire POV

8:40. I note the time as I compete the first lap and decide to run just the Pitches this time. I am nowhere near exhausted, which is a good thing. I grab my right arm by the elbow and pull it across my chest, stretching my back. And reverse. Grab my left elbow and pull it across my chest, stretching my back. I do waist twists, head and shoulder rolls and calf and thigh stretches. I can slow my pace a little. I am in no hurry though I am watching my time. The only appointment I have today is with my shower and then my bed.

XXJAMMFXX

I took the stairs and walked the one floor down to post surgical. Ian Murray. Lieutenant Ian Murray. I truly liked this man right from the start; the wife, not so much. He was a soft spoken, a very kind and gentle sort of man, with large, compassionate, medium brown eyes. He was in possession of a nice smile as well. He had a sarcastic sense of humor and a bit of a practical joker, I was to quickly learn. Not your typical military ranking officer - a bit of a geek; a kindred spirit, I thought, the better I got to know him. If it weren't for his wife, I'd bet we'd be friends. Ah, and then there was _him,_ the extremely handsome brother-in-law, to factor in.

Ian had been a bad luck case that was presented to me. It seemed that while on some sort of maneuvers, in the rain and dead of night, while on horseback, somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, in the middle of nowhere, dressed in a kilt of all things, his horse, on very rocky terrain, had slipped and fallen. Lieutenant Murray's reflexes had not been quick enough to get his leg completely out from under the animal as it fell and between the 1200 pounds of horse and the unforgiving rocky landscape, the foot was crushed, too many pieces to even attempt to save. His lower leg, pinned under the heavy animal as well, was beyond saving as both Fibula and Tibia were both broken into multiple compound fractures. The Femur had suffered a spiral fracture as well, twisting the leg in an attempt to remove it from harms way, would be my best guess. Thank God the knee had miraculously sustained only strained tendons and bruising or I'd have had no choice but to amputate mid-thigh. The entire Fibula had to be removed but enough of the Tibia remained salvageable that I believed, with physical therapy and the proper prosthetic, he would have a fairly normal life. He'd have his knee, and that was huge; essential to his ever walking without the aid of a cane or crutches to say nothing of his mental recovery.

His days on horseback, parachuting out of planes, swimming for miles, and Lord knows what other transgressions he had performed with his team in service of his country, were over. Finished. Done. Best find a new line of work.

"I will be able to love my bhean _(wife)_ , wrestle and play with my bairn, drive my truck and still play pranks on my brathair. Those are the things that truly matter," Lieutenant Murray said when I spoke to him alone, just before the surgery. "They are the things that will make me whole again. The rest, with my wife's love and support, I will learn to deal with."

Like I said, just an all around, great guy. I did not need to remind myself. I only wondered if there were any more like him at home as I stepped through the doors to begin my surgical scrub.

Lieutenant Murray had been airlifted to Inverness Hospital. I was not the on call surgeon, I just happened to be in the Doctor's Lounge, catching up on charting notes. The A&E Doctor, having just had a cup of coffee with me knew I was in hospital and sent a nurse to fetch me rather than page the on call surgeon; why call for one, when you already had one ready and waiting, right? I immediately went up to meet the incoming helicopter and accompanied them as they took Lieutenant Murray straight to a waiting A&E room where we began triage; we stopped the bleeding, started the lab work and took x-rays. I was in the process of reviewing the X-rays when the Lieutenant's wife arrived. Good, I thought, we needed paperwork signed, obtaining permission for surgery. The Lieutenant injuries needed to be dealt with, but as they were not life threatening, yet, he had options that we needed to discuss before I took him up to the operating theater. The clock was ticking, however. The longer we waited, the more likely complications might develop. Infection could set in.

Janet Murray. Now there was a force to be reckoned with. When she arrived, the entire A&E knew she entered the building. She immediately demanded to be taken to her husband and scanned the nurse's station with a fierceness in her eyes I'd only seen in predatory cats; her mate was injured and she was in serious protection mode. I watched her approach, with interest, through the glass in her husband's room.

Petite, both in stature and in build, maybe all of 5' 3", standing straight, no slouching. She might weigh 7 ½ stone soaking wet. Long dark brown hair pulled up in a pony tail. Brown eyes and minimal make up completed her. She had on a pair of jeans, torn at one knee and a white blouse with a splotch of what looked to be either spaghetti sauce, ketchup or perhaps even blood. Some mud covered boots adorned her small feet. She placed her over sized handbag on the chair as she entered the room. Fairly presentable since she had probably been called very early this morning and she had to drive, in the dark, to get here. Someone said their home, Lallybroch, was over an hour's drive.

The moment her eyes lit on her husband, they went all soft and her voice dropped an octave, I swear. The wife gently approached him, cooing and whispering what I was sure were sweet nothings in a language I could not even begin to understand. She held his hand to her cheek.

"Are ye alright Ian?" she asked with a gentleness I would not have guessed she possessed. "Are ye in pain _mo chridhe_?"

"Jenny, lass. A horse fell on my leg and I had to be airlifted to hospital. No, I'm no alright and aye, _mo neighan_ , I hurt. I'm in pain and I'm scared. But I'm glad ye here ma sweet lass. Have'n ye here makes the pain less noticeable. Is Jamie with ye?" he asked. He looked past her as if he expected someone else to walk in. "Mrs. Crook has the bairn, aye?"

I couldn't help but smile at his attempt to lighten his wife's mood and remove some of her worry. As I had stated earlier, I took a shine to the good Lieutenant right away...

"Aye, Mrs. Crook has the wee 'uns. No worries and… No, no Jamie is'na with me, I thought he'd be here with yoo" Jenny exclaimed. "Ye mean ta tell me the mòr dùnadh ( _big_ _blockhead_ ) did'na come with ye? He let ye come alone?" and her voice became louder and more angry with each syllable.

"You" Jenny barked.

I was reviewing Lieutenant Murray's x-rays on my laptop, looked up and met his wife's glare. "Just what do ye think is so verra funny, that ye are smile'n while my husband is in pain?"

...though I did not care for the wife and my smile disappeared as the woman's eyes bore into me. "I was just about to…"

"English! English are ye then? Well, Sassenach, I do'na care what ye were just about to do," Jenny growled and came around Ian's bed to stand right in front of me. She walked right up into my personal space, then stopped, still glaring at me.

Oh, this wife wanted to play a round of _lets intimidate the doctor,_ I thought. Well... I'd play.

"Jenny, hen, this is..." Ian tried to intercede on my behalf.

He needn't bother, I'd teach her myself...

Jenny held a hand up to silently hush Ian. "Do I need te inform ye that my husband was just airlifted in and is in pain?" She demanded. He needs a Doctor, not some _English_ Nurse. Why don't you just run along and fetch us a proper Doctor." The woman waved her hand at me like she was shooing a fly. _Then_ , she turned her back on me to face her husband.

I remained motionless for a moment, chanting my mantra to calm myself. One lesson in humility coming up with a side of eat crow. I cleared my throat.

Mrs. Murray did nothing. Did not even turn around.

I cleared my throat again, much louder and with command.

That woman, then, had the audacity to turn back around and shoot me another look filled with ire.

"Excuse me," I said in a voice smooth as silk, "for not having introduced myself. I was reviewing Lieutenant Murray's medical history and x-rays in preparation for his surgery when you announced your presence to all of A&E. Hello," and I extended my hand, "I am Claire Beauchamp, _**Doctor**_ Claire Beauchamp." I corrected myself with emphasis on the Doctor, as I stared back at Janet Murray. Over her shoulder I could see the Lieutenant with the hint of a smile on his face. "I am the surgeon that has been waiting for _your_ arrival in order to discuss Lieutenant Murray's surgical options, obtain the necessary signed paperwork and get him up to surgery." I stopped talking and pulled the Lieutenant's X-rays up on the laptop and turned the screen to face the couple. At least I had managed to shut the woman up, I thought to myself. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, if she was who I was going to have to deal with through months of the Lieutenant's recovery. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and launched into what the Lieutenant's options were and what I recommended. When I was done, I exhaled. I knew, just by the look on her face, the woman was going to say she wanted a 2nd opinion _._

"Any questions?" I asked.

"What do you mean, ye can'na save his leg?" Jenny snarled in a voice that sounded almost primal. "He fell off a bloody horse, for cry'n out loud. How far could he possibly have fallen? How many hands was the horse, Ian?" she demanded as she turned from him to me and then back to Ian... waiting for one of us to tell her it was a gag. That her husband was alright.. she could take him home... "It's no verra funny Ian. This is no' the time for it. The Sassenach," nodding her head at me, "...she could get in a lot of trouble play'n along with one of ye gags." and she shot me the evil eye. "And if she's really a nurse and works here at hospital, I'll make sure of it."

"Jenny, mo chridhe, 'tis no' a gag" and Ian swallowed and took a deep breath. His eyes softened and he lowered his voice, almost to a whisper when he continued. "The horse slipped and fell. On top of me, pinned my leg. It's pretty bad, Jen..." Ian reached a hand out and grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.

Jenny's face went from Hostility to Confusion to Anger to Devastation in the time it took to exhale and settle in his arms, as the reality of their situation settled in. "Nooo... No! No! No!... Oh No Ian..." and tears started to form in her eyes. "Where was Jamie?" as her tear filled eyes searched her husband's face for answers. "Where was my brother, aye? He's suppose to watch out for..." and Ian buried her face into his chest as she trembled and cried. He kissed the top of her head, rested his cheek against her hair and whispered to her in the same language she had used to speak to him when she first came in.

I quietly left the room.

XXJAMMFXX

I had a rather long and loud discussion about the surgery with Hospital Administration concerning the Lieutenant's leg. The Head of A&E, Head of Surgery, the Head of Hospital Administration, The on-call Surgeon, Myself, an unidentified balded headed man, dressed in a kilt, sporting a gray beard and mustache and menacing eyes as well the Head of Prosthetics were all there. I could not believe I was having to fight the surgical rotation on-call doctor about saving the knee. The on-call surgeon, wanting to save face, had argued for the mid-thigh amputation in order to save the patient the potential for gangrene green down the road from the fracture not healing properly.

"Then we hit him hard with antibiotics after the surgery." I said loudly, defending my surgical choice. "He'll need that knee to get his life back. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, he has a wife and kids; they need him. Let's help him out here."

The Head of A&E and my friend, Joe Abernathy placed a hand on my shoulder to still me. He squeezed it to let me know he had my back on this. Thank God the Head of Prosthetics & Orthotics agreed that it would be better to try and save the knee. The whole time the guy in the kilt just watched and listened until the very end. When everyone had a chance to speak their peace, the man stood up and spoke directly to Stan Greene, Head of Hospital Administration. "Give the surgery to the Sassenach he said. Let's save the lad's knee if we can." He shook Stan's hand, winked at me and left the room. I was given the go to perform the surgery by the Head of Hospital after some guy in a kilt gave me the thumbs up. I shook my head, dumbfounded.

As we exited the elevator on the 1st floor, I asked "Who was the bald guy in the kilt, Joe?"

"That L. J., was Lieutenant-Colonel Dougal MacKenzie. You don't want to make him unhappy, if you can help it. He sits on the Hospital's Board of Directors." And we walk back to Lieutenant Murray in A&E to give him the news.

I would later learn from Joe, that Mrs. Ian Murray did not want an _English_ Doctor to touch her husband and had made some phone calls. She'd gotten in touch with her uncle, who turned out to be the bald man in the kilt, and like the caring uncle he was, the Lieutenant-Colonel had responded to his niece's distress and had personally taken care of the issue. He had decided to give the surgery to the one person his niece did not want operating on her husband. Made me wonder about the Lieutenant-Colonel's loyalties.

Approximately three hours later, I emerged through the theater doors. My assistant had offered to speak to the wife but that comes with the job; I do not shirk from my responsibilities, even if the woman was a bit of a bitch. I understood her anger. Jenny Murray kissed her husband good bye yesterday morning and had to meet him at the A&E, scared to death, to find that their lives would never be the same again.

He was alive, I remind myself. It could have been far worse; I had witnessed some of that first hand. I had been able to save the knee. Huge. The Murray's might not understand the significance of that now but they would when the lieutenant was fitted with the prosthetic. They were months away from that however. There was shock to recover from, healing to do, lots and lots of therapy and family adjustments to be made. I was determined to help where I could.

I walked into the surgical waiting area. The room was packed. All of them men, bar one. All of them wearing in kilts. I was to learn later it was part of this team's uniform. The quiet conversations stopped immediately when I entered the room. They always did; I no longer took it personally. The Lieutenant-Colonel was down here as well. My head spun trying to put that piece of the puzzle together. The Lieutenant-Colonel motioned for someone to turn the TV off. I nodded to him in thanks and located Mrs. Murray in the crowd. It was not hard to find the single woman in the sea of men; interestingly enough, she was also the only one wearing pants. She remained seated as I approached and, as the chairs were bolted to the floor, I squatted so she could remain seated and not have to look up at me. Purely psychological, command, don't intimidate, when delivering post surgical information; it was drilled into us from the first day of surgical rotation.

"The surgery went well, Janet... Jenny... Mrs. Murray" I stumbled not knowing which to call her; not wishing to offend. Just don't call her a bitch, I told myself. "They are moving your husband to recovery as we speak. You should be able to see him when he comes out of the anesthesia, maybe another half hour or so..."

"His leg? What about his leg?" Jenny stumbled over the words. Her hands shaking in her lap.

I looked around the room as I gently reached for her hands, to still them, to let her know she was not alone; I was on her side, here to aid in her husband's recover. All eyes were focused on us. The room was silent as a tomb. You could have heard a pin drop. I was not sure what she would want the rest of the room to know... so I paused to think about my reply.

"You ken speak freely. We are all family here" a clear, strong baritone voice said and the body that spoke them sat down in the chair beside her, placing a supportive arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his chest.

I looked up into what I first thought was a Viking, fresh from battle. My breath caught at the sight of him. Strong, angled face. Bright blue eyes, with a slight slant to them, like a cat's, and wild, crazy auburn hair. Dried blood stuck to his forehead and down the side of his face and neck... "You're hurt" I said in an attempt to disguise my true reason for staring. Not really a question, I simply stated the truth and reached for his forehead, releasing Mrs. Murray's hands as I stood. "You need to be looked at." I reached out, lifted his matted hair and saw the laceration at the hairline. "Stitches too."

"Aye," he said brusquely as he batted my hand away. "It ken wait. It is'na important right now. Finish about Ian." Suddenly he remembered his manners and added "Please."

"His leg?" Jenny repeated looking up at me. "What about his leg?" and her hand gripped the thigh of the Viking.

I remained standing in front of Jenny. "Just as we spoke about... we had to amputate. We only took the lower leg. We saved the knee." At this I gave her a small smile. "I know that doesn't mean much to you now, but it will, later when he begins to walk again..."

"Walk? Ian will never walk again..." and Jenny choked on a sob and turned her head into the Viking's chest.

I paused. Giving Mrs. Murray a few precious moments to calm herself. When she looked back at me, I began again... "The surgery went just as we discussed earlier. Everything went as we expected. Your husband managed the surgery quite well. No complications. No surprises. We can go over the particulars tomorrow morning, when your husband is awake and you are rested. I know you have a lot of questions for me and I will answer every one of them tomorrow. The thing you need to know now is that your husband will be here for several weeks while he recovers from the surgery, gets used to the changes in his body and begins rehabilitation. He will need help doing everything for awhile. I have him on strong antibiotics and pain meds for the next couple of days. We will re-evaluate and adjust his medications and treatment a little later in the week. Do you have anyone that can drive you home Mrs. Murray?" I asked. "I would prefer it if you were not alone tonight or for the next couple of days. Until the shock of all of this wears off a bit."

"Aye," the Viking replied. There is Mrs. Crook, the housekeeper. But Murtagh and I will move in as well, Jen. As long as ye need us." He looked up passed me and nodded his head to someone behind me.

"Good." I stated and nodded my head in emphasis. "As I said, we can go into more detail tomorrow, if you like. Write down any questions you might have and I will answer them all for you after I check on the Lieutenant in the morning. A recovery nurse will come to take you back to see your husband when he wakes, Mrs. Murray. Does anyone have any questions before I take my leave."

"When can Ian have visitors?" a voice asked.

I turned and replied, "That's up the Lieutenant. He has made it pretty clear that his wife and family are the most important things to him. That is especially true right now. Visits should wait at least until tomorrow afternoon, please. Give direct family time with Lieutenant Murray in the morning. Let him visit with them and get settled. I am sure he would love to see you all, just not tonight. Tonight he need his rest, to recover. Immediate family only."

"How long before he comes back to work?" another asked.

"Again. That is all up to Mr. Murray. I think he is looking at months of rehabilitation, however." And I smiled supportively at Mrs. Murray.

"What can we do to help?" asked yet another voice.

"Just be there for him and try to treat him as normally a you can." I answered. "He did mention some things that were a priority to him, besides his family, of course. He mentioned a truck..."

"Aye, shite. Ian would want that piece of crap truck to be a priority..." and there was quiet laughter.

"Angus, shut ye gob. Let the doc talk. Some of us want to hear what the bonnie English lass has to say, aye?" Someone called out.

"Mr. Murray did say something about pranking a brother being high up on his list as well..." I added and smiled. The men all laughed again. "Well," I said, "let me check on Mr. Murray. The recovery nurse should come for you soon" I repeated to Mrs. Murray. "You won't be able to stay but a few minutes. We will move Lieutenant Murray to a room after he wakes. If one of you could wait and see Mrs. Murray safely home after she's seen her husband, the rest of you should go home. There is nothing more any of you can do tonight. Visiting hours are long over. Go home, get some sleep and come back tomorrow and visit, or rather later today as I glanced at the wall clock. It was after 5 am. Lieutenant Murray will need your friendship, support and humor then." I straightened my scrub top and took a couple of steps toward the door.

The Viking stood, helped Jenny to her feet and they followed me to the door. He opened it for me and then allowed Jenny and himself through it, letting it close behind him.

"Do you have additional questions?" I asked as I stopped and faced them. Mrs. Murray stood straight and tall, shoulders back, like a good soldier but while her eyes contained no fear in them, they were brimming with tears barely held in check. She looked exhausted. No way would this woman ever show me any sign of weakness if she could help it. She was worried sick about her husband and no words I could speak would offer her any comfort. She needed to see for herself that he was alright.

"No Doctor. I am going with ya te see my husband." She forcefully stated and squared her shoulder as if preparing for a fight. A hand went up to wipe away a tear that had not quite escaped her eye.

"Mrs. Murray, I am sorry if I did not make myself clear..." and the door opened and Lieutenant-Colonel MacKenzie stepped into the hall, allowing the door to close behind him.

"Is there a problem, Jamie?" he asked in a firm, commanding voice.

"No uncle. The good Doctor was just explain'n someth'n te Jenny, 'tis all." He turned his head to face the Lieutenant-Colonel when he spoke. He then returned his gaze to me, folded his arms across his chest as he spoke to clarify, "As ye were say'n Doctor. I believe ye were about te tell my sister that she could'na go back te see her husband..." And his mouth formed in a half smile, daring me not to escort them back to recovery.

That bastard. How had he known what I was going to say? I would not be bullied. I was the Surgeon. I was in charge. Murray was my patient and I would do what was best for him. I was already going against hospital policy by allowing Lieutenant Murray's wife back into recovery once Ian came out of the anesthesia. Most family members had to wait until the patient was taken to their room. I had come straight from surgery to speak to her also. My usual protocol was to make notes the patients chart, check on the patient's well being then speak to the family. I had broken almost all of my steadfast rules in regard to this family, for some unfathomable reason, and yet, it still was not enough for them.

"Mr...?" I struggled, wracking my brain for his name...

"Fraser, my name is Fraser. Major James Fraser. Jamie, if the rest is too complicated fer ye. Lieutenant Murray is my brother-in-law. Jenny here is my sister" and he put an arm around her, bringing her by his side and handed her a handkerchief. "Lieutenant-Colonel MacKenzie's our Uncle. My mother's brother" he clarified. Ye were say'n now..."

Great. Wonderful. I said to myself. This is not good. I follow hospital protocol and I piss off a board member. I take them back to recovery and the hospital is all over me. If the good Major had kept his mouth shut, I would have taken just Mrs. Murray back to see her husband. I knew Lieutenant Murray would have wanted to see his wife when he came out of anesthesia. That it would ease him to have her with him. I thought it might help both of them get some rest tonight. I had been willing to do that...

The door opened again. This time an average sized man, with a furry beard and mustache, small, almost beady, brown eyes and a button nose came out. He stood quietly in front of the waiting room door, in _at ease_ stance, as it closed softly behind him. He said nothing but he and Major Fraser exchanged nods.

Wonderful. 4 to 1 now. "Look. I have not checked on Lieutenant Murray yet and I need to. I knew Mrs. Murray would want to know immediately that the surgery went well so I came here first. I am, under no circumstances, traipsing back into recovery with the four of you in tow. I will allow Mrs. Murray back to come back with me because _I believe_ it to be in the Lieutenant's best interest. The rest of you need to wait here. Will that do? I asked and waited for a response.

Major Fraser spoke first. "I will no allow my sister to go back unaccompanied. I am going with her." His eyes locked fiercely onto mine. He was telling me, not asking.

I opened my mouth to argue against it but silently closed it again and nodded in agreement. It would be better for Mrs. Murray to have her brother's support, I supposed. I could live with this compromise. It would also allow me to have someone take care of his head wound before he left hospital. I would not allow him to leave with an open head wound.

The Lieutenant-Colonel turned and nodded at me, with a knowing smirk splashed across his face. "I thank ye most kindly for the attention you have shown to my niece and nephew this evening. It will no' go unappreciated." That Bloody Scottish Bastard knew I could not have refused to take a board member's own niece back to recovery. That's why he had stepped out here into the hall to begin with. I hated hospital politics.

Major Fraser turned to his uncle and said. "Thank you Uncle Dougal for everything. Tell Aunt Geillis _Hello_ and that I will see her at the party." The Lieutenant-Colonel placed his hand on the Major's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Let me ken if ye or Janet need any'thin else, aye? I'll go in and dismiss the team." He and his Uncle nodded heads then Lieutenant-Colonel returned to the waiting room as the furry man stepped forward to stand next to the Major.

The Major turn to Jenny and said "Ye ready Jenny?" She wiped a tear from her face and nestled tightly into his chest. "Aye, Jamie. Let's go see Ian."

He turned to me and said "Lead on then, Doctor."

I turned to the furry man standing beside the Major and said "You may wait here with the others or go on home. Only immediate family is allowed in recovery."

The man straightened and looked me straight in the eye. "Immediate family or no', I'll be accompanying my godson and his sister to see her husband. With or without your permission, _Doctor_." A slight emphasis on the last word.

"Oh." I said. "Lieutenant Murray is to have a small party then? Did anyone bring hats and horns?" I asked sarcastically as I turned to led the way.

The Major said not a word but I could hear a sort of half snort behind me, then the sound of a slap hitting a solid object, an "Ooch, Jen" that fell into complete quiet.

I escorted Mrs. Murray, the Major and the Godfather to Lieutenant Murray. I stood at the end of the bed and checked the Lieutenant's vitals from my pad. Wondrous things computers and all their little off-shoot by-products. I don't know what the hospital or I would do without them. Ian's post op vitals looked good. I just wanted to check the stump before I left for home. Fred was home alone and most likely still up waiting for me.

I pulled one of the nurses aside. "Nurse, I need client admin paperwork. Now, please" and I checked the nurse's ID and add her name, "Rachael" and smiled. "Also, please call down to A&E. I need a room with a suture set up. I'll need medium, sterile gloves as well as a syringe of..."

"Major, do you have any allergies?" I asked and looked at him.

He looked up at me with question in his eyes and raised an eyebrow.

"Just answer the question, truthfully, if you would please." I said.

He shook his head _No._

"Not to any anesthetics, that you are aware of?" I asked.

"No. Why?"

I turned back to Nurse Rachael and continued..." as well as a 2mL syringe with 2% Lido with epi. I'll also need a debridement set up. I know, I know, it is an unusual request. Just do it, please. Come back and let me know which room and Thank you."

She nodded her head and walked away.

The godfather and the Major watched me as I walked back to the Murray's. The Lieutenant looked up at me as I approached, all smiles.

"Not feeling any pain are we then?" and I smiled back. "Good to know. Everything went exceedingly well, Lieutenant. Better than I had expected. We are going to keep you on an IV for the next several days. I want to hit you hard with antibiotics to ward off any possible infections. Your wife can stay with you until they are ready to move you to ICU. She will need to leave and come back tomorrow then," nodding my head at Mrs. Murray. "I will come see you, Lieutenant, when you are settled in your room, before I leave for the night."

I heard the nurse come up behind me. "Thank you, Rachael," I said as I turned and took the clipboard from her. I turned back to the four adults all staring at me, like little owls – two sets of brown eyes and two sets of blue. "Now, Major Fraser _,_ if you will please accompany me downstairs" I commanded as I handed him the clipboard with Medical History paperwork to complete. I reached into my scrub and handed him my pen as well. "You should come with me as well, Mr...?" and I looked that the furry man with curiosity on my face.

"My name is Murtagh." he answered.

I paused, waiting to see if he would give me his surname as well...

"Murtagh Fraser" Jenny replied as she thumped him upside the head. "Our father's family." Like that answered everything.

"Captain Murtagh FitzGibbons Fraser, at your service ma'am" and he bowed at me. When he straightened he smiled at me and winked.

Such a large friendly smile, I could not help but smile back.

"Please call me Ian" the Lieutenant said. "And this is my wife Janet. Jenny and _mo brathair_ here is James." He said with a huge smile on his face. The medication was clearly working. Good.

"Nice to have names to the faces" I said as I nodded my head to all of them. "Major, I need to place some sutures in that scalp of yours before you leave this hospital. I will brook no refusal" and I gave him my best Doctor's Orders look.

The Major said nothing. A small half smile formed on his perfect mouth and he blinked his cat eyes.

A noise, like a smothered snort, came from Ian. When I turned to look, he was all smiles, blinking like crazy at me.

"Mrs. Murray, Janet, you will find your brother and Captain Fraser with me down in A&E. I know you to be perfectly capable of finding us when recovery here kicks you out."

I turned and started to walk away. I did not hear either the Major or the Captain follow so I turned back around to gaze upon the four of them staring at me. "Now, brother-in-law! I haven't got all day. I would, eventually, like to go home and feed my cat." I turned and continued to walk toward the exit doors, not looking back again. The Major reached the door before I did.

"'Tis Jamie te ye, Sassenach. Ye can call me Jamie," and blinked his eyes again.

He held the door open for me to pass. Such a gentleman, I thought to myself... though he might want to have that eye blinking thing looked at. His godfather followed a step or two behind us, almost like a butler.

XXJAMMFXX

The fog begins to burn off. I complete the second lap around the Pitches. I check my pulse and put my hat on - _Check Your Balls_ (for testicular cancer); a run _He_ and I did together, last month for a charity _He_ supports. My time is 9:05 am. My time is on track. I might do the full 12 miles in under the needed time.

After today, though, the team will not be an option for me. Whether I can pass the physical will make no difference as of 11 am today. For like the gorgeous Bengal Tiger at the Edinburgh Zoo, today we share the same fate. We are kindred spirits, both harboring the feelings of entrapment, without choice over our own fate. We both are anxious and restless as a result. The tiger, in order to relieve his frustration, paces back and forth in his habitat, wanting his freedom, needing a mate. He can smell her closeness, knowing she is near, though in another area somewhere close but out of reach. He has no way to express even his most basic primal urges so he tastes the air with his tongue and whiskers and pants while he suffers his fate. So begins his need to pace, wearing a dirt trench in the grass around the perimeter of his confine, no relief from the isolation, of being alone; it is his destiny. I have lost the same control in my space. Unable to make the changes I want in my life. Unable to be with my selected mate. I can smell him. I can taste him in the air when he is near. I want _him_ so much and he is slipping away from me. Today he will be gone. So many spend their lives searching for 'the one', their heart, their soul mate. I have been lucky enough to find mine, only to realize I am not his; he desires another, younger, prettier mate. I need to do something to take my mind off of what will happen today. I turn off Bught Road and cross the bridge to Ness Island. Each lap around both islands is a ½ mile. 6 laps will give me 3 more miles, 8 miles total. If I run down the River Ness to St. Andrews Cathedral and then back that will give me the 12 miles I need. I turn toward the Islands just as _Here I Go Again by Whitesnake starts to play_. The time – 9:07 am.


	3. Chptr 3: Keep 'em In Stitches

Marriage Material - Chapter 3 Keep 'em in Stitches

Claire POV

9:15 am I've completed my first two laps around the small islands, another mile under my belt in. That makes 6 miles in an hour and eight minutes. I am pushing for six in an hour today. I'm eight minutes off. I need to pick up the pace. I'm not tired. I need more. I am nowhere near exhausted enough to forget what this day is. I will run until I drop. I have money for an Uber when my legs turn to rubber.

XXJAMMFXX

Down to the main floor to the automatic doors it took my badge to open and we entered the A&E through the staff entrance. The Captain and the Major followed, observing everything as we passed with wide-eyed wonderment. The hospital's inner workings; It's bones and blood. Nothing like a back stage tour to earn a girl some points. The A&E is usually calm at 5:15 in the morning. Today was no exception. There were Nurses and Med Techs milling about the Nursing station. Not a Doctor in sight. When I came around the corner, unexpectedly, and was spotted, there was a sudden flurry of activity, like bees in a hive. Suddenly everyone had nine hundred things to do and scattered. I thought nothing of it.

"Looks like ye run a tight ship here, Claire. All the workers scatter at the sight of ye." The Major commented and turned to watch as two men in scrubs walked in through an exit, caught a glimpse of me from behind, turned right back around and walked back out. "Ye don't strike me as ruthless but..."

"That's because I'm not" I said as I turned to face him, walking backwards as I did. "My expectations are high, that's all and I don't lower them to accommodate the staff, I expect the staff to rise to mine. I don't take shortcuts or lower my standards, ever, and I expect the people I work with to do their job as professionals. They all have brains, or they would not be here and I expect them to use them." I could see by his face he was thinking about what I said but maybe did not quite agree with me so I adjusted my example to one he would understand. "It takes discipline, that's all. Certainly a military man such as yourself has the same expectations for those under your own command, I should think." I stopped. I was right at the station's counter. "You would not coddle them, even if you could, would you?"

"Ah Doctor, ye have a fair point... but there are different ways to earn a person's respect, for that is what ye are truly desirous of, after all. For if a leader is smart and kens how to earn their staff's respect then the commander will no' have to worry about their expectations no' being met because the staff will show their appreciation by doing the verra best they can." He said as he met my gaze. "Do ye not find that having a happy worker that respects ye is better than one that is scared of ye and too nervous to give ye their best efforts?"

I opened my mouth to reply and realized I had none. He was exactly right and I smiled at him to let him know that I agreed, then turned to address the face behind the counter.

"Melissa" I said and smiled as I read her name tag. Her eyes got big as saucers, not unlike a deer's eyes caught in a car's headlights. She stopped typing on her laptop immediately. "A nurse from recovery called down to have a room prepped for me. Can you tell me which room?" And I hastily added "Please" and hoped the Major did not pick up on the pause as I thought to add the nicety.

Melissa immediately hopped up from her chair, sending it flying backwards. "Yes, Dr. Beauchamp. Everything is ready for you, per your instructions. Would you like me to take the patient back, review the medical history, take vitals and prep the wound for you? I can page you when I'm finished." She recited it like it was one, long word like _supercalifragilisticepialidocious._ The poor nurse was sweating and her hands were shaking. I looked at the girl and inwardly cringed, realizing the nurse was actually showing signs of fear; Melissa was actually scared of me and I did not even know her well enough to have known her name without reading her name badge. How could I have never noticed I had this effect on Hospital staff before? How could the Major have recognized the terror I wielded and I not? He hardly knew me. Or perhaps he knew me better than I knew myself.

My gut clenched. I felt terrible. Ashamed. Horrible. I never meant to scare or intimidate any of the staff, but I had. Clearly. And they all seemed to fear me because of it.

"No. No thank you Melissa. I can manage. I just needed to know which room." I made an effort to smile at her, reassuringly.

"Room 7, Doctor." Melissa said with a tremor in her inflection. I had scared her yet again. Maybe it was my smile, I thought. Perhaps too many teeth showed when I did. I'd have to practice in the mirror when I returned home. I turned and said, "This way gentlemen" and off we went.

"Sit here on the stool, Major" and I pushed it toward him with my foot.

"I asked ye ta call me Jamie. And my godfather is Murtagh.

"Please, Jamie. Have a seat on the stool." I added and looked up at him with a forced smile. Major Fraser gave me a very charming smile in return, like he knew mine for what it was, and decided to show me how to smile with sincerity. Murtagh hopped up onto the exam table and watched me like a hawk. "Start writing," I said, "while I set up" and tapped the clipboard. "I want that pen back when you're finished. It's my favorite."

"Ye have a favorite pen?" Jamie said with a laugh. "Who has a favorite pen?" He and Murtagh exchanged looks. I had no idea what it meant.

"Yes, I do." I replied. "I like that it's blue ink and not black. I like the way it fits in my hand; it just feels right when I hold it. I like that it's gel and not ball point. I like the way the ink flows when I write with it, not scratchy. I like that it's retractable so I don't loose the cap. And lastly," I said as I met his gaze, "I like it because it's pink and I supported Breast Cancer Awareness when I purchased it. You know... Save the TaTa's." and I smiled at him.

He laughed. A deep, jolly, _Ho Ho Ho_ Santa kind of laugh, so hard it made me giggle. I look at Murtagh and he was grinning all the way to his eyes and chuckled softly so his shoulders shook from quietly holding in his mirth. Well, at least I could make them laugh.

I was ready to begin, but the Major was taking forever to complete the paperwork. I finally ran out of patience and demanded "Give me the clipboard." I held out my hand and wiggled my fingers for him to hand it over. "You are going to take all day. I need to get home. As I have said, I have a cat that needs to be fed."

Jamie looked up at me with a devilishly charming half smile and returned to the forms, scribbling once again. "You'll owe me breakfast by the time I am finished stitching you back together at this rate" and I placed one hand on the clipboard and hold the other out for the return of my pen.

The Major snorted but returned both. I glanced at the partially completed form. The handwriting was so bad, I couldn't even read it. Not even his name and I knew that one. "Damn, you missed your calling, Maj... Jamie. You should have been a physician with handwriting this bad. I can hardly read it." I reviewed the paperwork with him, verbally, though his godfather answers half of my questions for him. The good Major's thoughts seemed to be elsewhere though his focus was locked on my face the entire time. I was mostly concerned with the possible medications he might have or be taking, any allergies and any preexisting conditions. There were apparently none. The guy was as healthy as a horse. Just knocked his noodle a little too hard. I held the clipboard while he signed the forms. I washed my hands and gloved up.

While I cleaned and debride the wound, Murtagh filled me in on how it happened. Apparently Jamie had a misadventure with a tree limb in his haste to get to his brother-in-law. It was not too bad as far as head wounds go. The head is vascular, lots of blood vessels, and so with any scalp wound there is usually a lot of blood. Makes most people panic. Four simple stitches closed the wound and I did not have to shave his lovely red locks to do it. He had a nice iodine prep stain on his forehead and a rather large bandage wrapped around his noggin to keep things covered when I was done. I had rinsed his hair and wiped his face and neck down before I began, so he was a bit cleaner when Jenny, Mrs. Murray appeared in the doorway. I was just washing my hand when I heard her voice.

"So Jamie, ye look like ye've been to war. Like that fella in the American Painting. The one with the two drummers and the fife player all march'n and the flag in the background. The one that has bandages around his heid... ye look like him a bit" and she smiled and touched his face. Jamie put an arm around her waist and pulled her in between his legs and hugged her. She gentle wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him into her chest, laying her cheek on the patch of exposed hair on the top of his head. The two of them held each other as a minute or two passed. Murtagh sat quietly and I counted the tiles on the floor. Forty-nine of them.

Finally Jamie said "He'll be alright Jenny. Claire kens what she's doing. She will take care of him for us. I trust her."

"If ye sure Jamie" and she moved her eyes to look at me without lifting her cheek from his head. They were full of tears, her cheeks wet with the ones that had already fallen.

I nodded my head once to her. "I will Jenny." I said. "I will take prestigious care of him, like he is my own" and I gave her a small smile.

She removed a hand from around her brother's head and held it out to me. I took it in my own. We didn't move, nor said anything until Murtagh's stomach rumbled, loudly in hunger.

We all laughed. Just the icebreaker we needed.

"Well," I said as I removed my disposable jacket and placed in the bin. I need to go up and check on my patient before I leave..."

"He was sleep'n when they were ready to take him up to his room. They would'na let me go with him," Jenny said sadly. "I had to let go of his hand, Jamie... he's gonna wake up and I'm no' gonna be there with him..." and she began to softly cry again.

I sighed. "Come with me. I shouldn't, but you all come up with me to check on him. But no staying more than it takes me to look in on him, alright?"

They all nodded. Jamie stood up and looked at his watch. "5:52 in the morning. It will be morning soon enough. I guess we could find ye some breakfast Murtagh, after we see Ian, I mean. There must be something open somewhere near here, then I suppose we should find someplace te rest. No point in drive'n back te Lallybroch just to turn around and come right back. We'll call Mrs. Crook and check on the bairn."

I stopped at the nurse's station to let Melissa know we were finished with the room. I asked her look up Ian Murray's room number and we left. When we found him, he was resting comfortably. I left the three of them while I went to the nurses station to pull up Ian's information on one of the computers. His stats were good. Everything looked stable. I made sure they had my cell number and told them I was headed home. I would have to be back by 8am for rounds; 2 hours, hardly seemed worth it. I might just sleep in an empty on call room instead. I returned to the room to gather Ian's family. They needed to leave.

Murtagh was leaning against the wall outside the door. "Ian woke up and I wanted to give them a minute alone with him" he whispered, so he and I stood quietly, side by side outside the room.

"Ian is lucky te have ye as his doctor, Claire. I want ye te know we all ken that and appreciate all you've done for him tonight... Jenny as well, though she'll never tell ye. The MacKenzie said ye fought to save the lad's knee. That ye told him it would be important for him to have, te help him walk again." He took a deep breath, pulling air in through his nose with a woosh. "Ye a braw lass. This hospital is lucky te have the likes of ye. Don't mind anything Jenny might say. She does'na mean any harm. She's just scared is all. She has known Ian all her life, since she was a wee lassie, and has been in love with him almost as long. Married almost 15 years they have already, and bairn that need their father. And you lass, have given him back to them."

"Thank you" I said. "But it will be a long, hard road ahead for them. I will do everything in my power to make it a smooth transition, but it isn't going to be up to me..." I looked at Murtagh in earnest. "This is the kind of injury that can break a marriage. He will need all the support the family can give him... but he can't be pampered or have people that will feel sorry for him. Ian is going to have to fight and work hard and recovery will be painful." I sighed. "I think he can do it. He got the right personality and attitude to make a full recovery and accept the prosthetic limb. Will he still have a job on the team?"

Murtagh shrugged his shoulders in reply.

"I know he will be physically limited," I continued. "It will be vital to his recovery, to have that possibility. There will be a great many things he won't be able to do, but there will still be a great many things he can, and even more new things he might learn to do."

"Aye," Murtagh said with a nod. "Jamie 'ill have to speak to his uncle about finding a position for Ian behind a desk. Ian won't like it, no' one bit, but Jenny will..."

The door opened and Jenny and Jamie came out.

"Murtagh said Ian's awake?" I asked with surprise. "With what I gave him, he should have slept through lunch tomorrow." I walked past Jamie and Jenny and opened the door to enter the room. "I'm not tired. I'll sit with him for a while, make sure he's resting comfortably and make some notes." I hoped the smile I gave them reassured them a little. "You go. Get some food in your stomachs and some rest. Hug your kids, Jenny. Ian is safe."

"Will ye no going with us to grab a bite to eat then, Claire? Ye need to eat as well." Murtagh asked.

Jamie raised an eyebrow at his godfather then added "We'd like for ye to come, if yer hungry and look'n for company."

"No. No thank you. I'll take a rain check." I said though a part of me really wanted to go. To spend more time in the company of Jamie. But I knew better and I entered the room and let the door close softly behind me. I heard "Did ye call Mrs. Crook yet, Jen? What about the bairn?" as they walked down the hall.

I knew they'd be alright.

I took out my phone to text my neighbor, who lived across the hall. A new friend, a young police office. He kept stranger hours than I did. He was up almost every morning at 4 am to make his way to the gym for an hours workout before his shift. We often passed in the hallway.

 _Happy to feed Fred. No problem._ Elias Pound text back _._

That allowed me to sit with Lieutenant Murray and keep my promise to his wife and her very handsome brother. Was he single was still was a very important, yet still unanswered question.

XXJAMMFXX

The fourth lap around and I thought my lungs were on fire. I had to slowed my pace considerably and hydrated. Maybe I could make the six laps in an hour and twenty minutes. I'll slowly jog the last lap and checked my time. The parks were already full of kids, playing. Laughing, screaming and chasing one another. Saturday. A day for families. Fred was my entire family now and she didn't do parks. The time 9:40 am.


	4. Chptr 4: Dressmaker Find Me A Dress

Marriage Material – Chapter 4 Dressmaker, Dressmaker Find Me a Dress

Claire POV

I finished my 3 laps around Ness Island and I find I am not ready to call it quits. I still have a buzz from the caffeine, so I will continue my run by turning down the River Ness's walking path to St. Andrews as planned. It's turning into a really beautiful day and an exhilarating run for me; I can feel the run working _h_ _im_ from my system. The path does not look too crowded, the sun's out, surprise, surprise and there's a nice breeze off the river. The time is 9:57 am.

XXJAMMFXX

You HAVE to go." Joe declared. "You don't say _NO_ to this kind of stuff L J, seriously. This is one of those life changers - career makers, or breakers if you drink too much and wear weird party hats."

I shook my head. "I'm not going, Joe. I won't know a soul. I'd feel lost and, I don't know... out of place." And as my last defense, I added "I have nothing to wear to something like that anyway."

"Oh, pleeeasssse let me be your Plus One to this bash," he half pleaded with his hands clasped together in prayer. "I'll pay you to let me accompany you, L J." Joe looked as close to begging as I have ever seen the man get. "I clean up pretty good and I have a tux already. My wife will understand, since it's you and THE PARTY OF THE CENTURY." He practically screamed and batted his eye at the same time.

I laughed. Loudly. "It just has my name on the invitation Joe," I said and handed it to him. It read:

 _Dr. Claire Beauchamp_

in the most elegant of scripts, not and guest or plus one. "I suppose you could come. I'd go if I knew someone there and I could certainly use the moral support. What could they do, turn us away?"

"Yes, but not us, me, and I'd be left standing outside while you got to go in and party it up. It's at their country estate, _Beannachd._ Again, gorgeous. Been written up by _Homes and Interiors Scotland_ every year since I've lived in Scotland – that's almost 10 years, in a row. Made the cover twice. You must go, if for no other reason than so I can have bragging rights - I'd know someone who's been" Joe practically squealed. "I'll call Gail and have her come to the Hospital straight away. You are off the clock the moment she arrives. You need to find a dress, and not just any dress. _The Dress_. And don't look at price tags. My wife will know what to do. She can spend money and don't I know it."

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Joe. The party isn't for another two weeks," I declared. "It's a little scary you know all this shit about a Bloody _Soiree,_ though. I have rounds and haven't checked in on Ian Murray today. I hope to discharge him tomorrow. I can't believe it has been two weeks already. I want to see how his therapy went and where we're at with the prosthetic; Dr. Chang is fitting it, as a personal favor to me. I have two surgeries scheduled this afternoon as well. I'm not going anywhere, certainly not dress shopping, as enticing as Gail's company is." I poured the last of my coffee down the sink, washed the cup and walked out of the lounge. I grabbed my invitation as I passed Joe and slipped it into my surgical jacket pocket on the way out. "Close your mouth Joe, you'll choke on a fly and I don't have time to perform _The Heimlich_ right now and the door closed softly behind me.

XXJAMMFXX

I was willing to give up this life I had created, for _Him,_ the man I had fallen head over heels in love with. I would leave my job at hospital and work out of Fort George near Ardersier, to be near _Him_. The problem was, he never asked me to. Just after the Soiree, The Head of Hospital Administration, Sean Greene called me into his office and told me that Lieutenant-Colonel MacKenzie had asked and received the hospital's permission to place my name on a substitution call list. If a team needed a medic because theirs was unavailable, I would be contacted and asked to step in and work the simulation with the needed team. There were 5 teams under The Lieutenant-Colonel's command, _h_ _is_ being one of them. The Hospital has been understanding about loaning me out to work with them. Let's face it, it was good PR for the Hospital. Besides, I had the feeling no one said _No_ to the Lieutenant-Colonel.

XXJAMMFXX

Gail was God sent. I did not know what I would have done without her. I drove us the 3 ½ hours to Glasgow in my little green Mini Cooper leaving at the end of shift, about a week or two later, on my next scheduled couple of days off, and we checked into Hotel du Vin. Gail waved Joe's Credit Card and said the Hotel was on him and laughed as she gave it to the receptionist. The room was amazing; large, spacious, full of beautiful wood paneling and flooring, large Turkish rugs scattered the floor. The artwork consisted of a couple of etchings of Old Edinburgh. A signed and numbered series that were beautifully matted and framed. However, despite the small little art gallery the hotel room was, in my humble opinion, the best feature was a large soaking tub in the bathroom. My little flat only had a shower. I was absolutely thrilled to see the tub and started to run myself a bath while Gail checked in with Joe.

Thoroughly refreshed, Gail and I went down to the hotel bar for cocktails while we waited for our 7pm dinner reservation. Gail had procured tickets to _Grease,_ some American Musical Gail said would be upbeat and fun; an 8:30pm curtain at the Glasgow Theatre.

A quick night cap at the Hotel's bar when we returned and we fell blissfully asleep back in our room by 1 am.

The next morning, fortified with the most excellent coffee, croissants with blackberry jam, and fresh fruit, Gail and I grabbed our purses and we almost grudgingly left the sanctuary of the hotel. The doorman hailed a taxicab for us and we were off in search of _The Dress_. We were dropped off on Princes Street and entered our first stop, _Jenners_. Up to Ladies Evening wear. I found a black cocktail length dress by Joie; a simple sleeveless sheath dress that came about mid-thigh. It had a playful, flared skirt. I could think of two hospital functions I had been made to attend recently where it would have been perfect. Gail reminded me that the day was still young and I did not have to purchase the very first thing I found but I bought it anyway. Who couldn't use a little black dress, I thought and smiled.

Lunch reservations at Number 16 for 1pm, Gail reminded me. Still plenty of time for more shopping.

We walked the streets, popping in out of quirky boutiques and named shops. We had a wonderful time trying on clothes. I found an A-line,mid-thigh, leather skirt and a white, silk, long sleeve, wrap blouse to go with it in one shop and Gail purchased some very sexy lingerie in another. A thank you gift to Joe for our little shopping spree, I was sure.

On Multrees Walk we found Stella McCartney. I absolutely love this designer. Her things were stunning but had never been invited to a function that warranted such frivolity. With the help of a young sales clerk, I quickly found several dresses I liked and was shown to a changing room. The first was a black, single shoulder, long, floor length gown. Gail shook her head _No_ the minute I walked out. The next was another floor length gown with a floral pattern, scooped neckline, spaghetti straps that crossed in the back and a small train.

Gail's eyes told me she thought the dress was beautiful but said "floral is probably not a good idea for a black tie, evening function, stick to solids or dark prints, Claire."

I commented "I don't think the train is a great idea either. I'm not sure I would know how to keep people from treading on it. My luck someone would step on it in the first hour and the dress would tear. Plus, if I am expected to dance, what do I do with it?"

The third dress was a floor length, solid green chiffon. Three layers of green starting with the top layer - a dark, moss green and the next two layers were each a shade lighter than the one on top of it. It had a halter style top which tied with a bow at the neck in the back. The waist had the fabric crisscrossing back to front, almost like a woven cummerbund around the waist. The skirt was softly pleated, very full and playful. When I saw myself in the mirror, I knew I had found _The Dress._

When I walked out of the dressing room, Gail clapped and said "Oh, girlfriend, you are going to be asked to dance wearing that. Your dance card is going to be full within the first half hour, I promise you. You better take pictures of each and every one of those boys too. I will need to see them." She could not stop smiling at me.

I twirled in the mirror, the layers of the dress floating on air like butterflies. I felt like a princess in it. Until I looked down at my feet. A very pretty, but shoe-less princess.

Gail, always intuitive, said... "next stop Jimmy Choo. He'll have killer stilettos for that dress."

We both giggled.

The two sales girls that were helping both nodded their heads. Dress found. As I looked at myself in the dress one last time before I took it off, I wondered if _He_ would like me in it. Would _he_ even be there, I wondered? After all The MacKenzie was his uncle... I closed my eyes and imagined his large, callused hand slip under the soft fabric covering my breast...

XXJAMMFXX

 _I was sitting in the glassed solar area of the Hospital Cafe, sipping my afternoon tea and completing my mornings surgical notes. I had two morning surgeries after rounds so I did not manage to find my way down to the cafe for our usual morning coffee meet up. I sighed. I surprised myself at just how much I missed this morning's meet up with Jamie. How much of a routine it had become over the last two weeks. We had started running together, which helped my stress levels immensely, but I felt a small sadness pull at my heart after missing him this morning. I so enjoyed our spirited parleys. Our views and approaches were so different yet so eye-openingly informative. I noticed my people skills had improved considerably since our talks began. I hoped in some small way, I helped him as well. I so wanted the relationship we were building to be an equal exchange of thoughts, ideas along with language and cultural exchanges. And food. Food was never far from the thoughts of the Major or his godfather. I giggled to myself._

 _A sudden "There ye are Doctor" pulled me from my thoughts._

 _I reduced the screen I was working on and looked up from my laptop to see Jenny Murray standing in front of me with a very attractive, young, blonde woman. Yet another beautiful, blue-eyed beauty. I sighed. Both had a cup of tea in their hand and Jenny had a plate with a piece of cake and the blonde carried two forks and napkins._

" _Jenny" I said with a smile. "Would you and your friend care to join me?"_

" _Aye, if we would'na be disturb'n ye work then?" and, not waiting for a reply, they sat down in two chairs side by side._

 _I waited for Jenny to make the introductions. When she didn't, I simply said "Hello. I'm Claire Beauchamp" and held out my hand._

" _Aye, I ken who ye are. Yer Ian's doctor. The English one" the blonde added with a smidgen of disdain. She nodded her head, totally ignoring my outstretched hand..._

 _I did not have the feeling she was being rude, I simply thought she did not know she was expected to shake it._

 _...and added four packets of sugar to her tea._

 _She certainly liked it sweet, I thought to myself._

" _I'm Laoghaire. Laoghaire MacKenzie." She did not exactly smile when she said it as she stirred her tea with a fork._

 _Her smile off set me just a bit. "Yum" I said, trying to change the subject. "That cake looks delicious. Is it carrot?"_

" _No" Jenny said. "The woman said it was spice. Would ye care to try a bite?"_

" _No. No, thank you, Jenny" I replied as I shook my head. "How did therapy go this morning?"_

" _Ouch" was the start of her reply. "Ian was fight'n the po'or therapist somethin' fierce today. I ken that's a good sign, that he's healing but... He just seemed so frustrated. I do'na think he kens which he does'na care for more, the wheelchair or the crutches."_

" _I know it's not for me to say, but Ian's probably anxious to get home. Tomorrow will be two weeks he's been here." I said to reassure her and I placed a hand on her arm. "I know he misses the kids terribly. He wants to be home. He speaks of nothing but of his life at Lallybroch at night when I sit with him." I smiled._

 _Jenny smiled back._

" _Another day or two and I should be able to release him. He'll have to keep up the therapy appointments and then there will be the prosthetic to be fitted... in a month or so."_

 _Jenny nodded her head enthusiastically. I knew she could not wait to get her husband home. She missed him as much as he missed her. Still so in love after 12 years of marriage and 6 kids. You could clearly see it almost every time they looked at each other._

" _MacKenzie, you said? Are you related to Lieutenant-Colonel Dougal MacKenzie?" I asked, attempting to bring the young woman into the conversation._

" _Aye," she replied. "My father's a second cousin. "'Tis complicated but our grandfathers were related, ye ken. My grandmother is his Head of House, at Beannachd, as well. I work used to work in the kitchens there."_

" _What sort of work do you do now?" I asked innocently enough._

" _Laoghaire is practically family. She helps with the bairn at Lallybroch" Jenny pipped in. "And Mrs. Crook with the cook'n and the clean'n and such... with Ian and ma six bairn and Laoghaire's two, it takes threes strong women to keep everyone fed, house cleaned, piles of laundry washed, folded and put away, bairn managed as well as the farm and gardens tended."_

" _Oh?" I said. My face must have clearly shown my surprise. No one had mentioned Laoghaire up to now and she lived at Lallybroch, like family._

" _Aye, I have two girls of my own. Marsali is seven and Joan is five. From a previous marriage, ye ken. Though after we're wedded, I hope to give Jamie a son." She smiled the most serene smile I had ever seen._

 _I almost choked and set my tea down before I spilled it. "Jamie?" I repeated like a parrot. "Jamie Fraser?" I croaked and looked at Jenny for confirmation._

 _Jenny and Laoghaire exchanged glances._

" _Major Fraser is your fiancé?' I stuttered. "I had no idea..." I was struck mute. I had no words. With shaking hands I closed the notes I had been working on as well as the hospital's patient program, turned the laptop off and closed the lid. Why had neither Jamie nor Murtagh not at least mentioned her in passing. Or Ian. I had never heard of Laoghaire MacKenzie until this very minute? With her pretty face, blonde hair, blue eyes, nice figure..._

 _I looked dumbstruck at Jenny, her eyes softened with a little sorrow for me. She knew no one had told me so she planned this... She place a hand on mine. "I did'na think ye ken. Jamie did'na tell ye then?"_

 _Still dumbstruck, I shook my head in reply._

" _I ken ye were fall'n for him. Most lasses do. Jamie does'na do it on purpose. It's just the way he has with lasses. Marri't as well as single all seem to get caught up his gentleness, his manners... they misunderstand his kindness for more than it 'tis."_

" _And those eyes..." Laoghaire added. "I still get lost in 'em, when he looks at me just so. I fell in love with him when I was only eight, just a snot-nosed bairn. I told my Gran I was gonna marry 'em when I grew up. It just took me awhile to catch 'em"_

" _Oh, no... Jenny... Laoghaire... Friends. Murtagh and I are friends. Jamie... Jamie just comes along. Chaperones us, I suppose." I looked everywhere but at them. Finally I stood. "Look, I'm sorry to do this... I've got to go... got... stuff to do... It was a pleasure to meet you, Laoghaire. Truly. Jenny. Always a pleasure..." I grabbed my cup and computer and left as quickly as I could, throwing the cup in the rubbish bin when I passed it on the way out. I was standing at the elevator, waiting, when I heard..._

" _Claire" in that baritone voice, rolling the "R" in a way that always made my heart flutter._

 _I turned and quickly walked away, around the corner to the first door that needed a scanned badge for admittance. I leaned against the door as it closed and sunk to the floor. I recognized that I was in a maintenance supply closet just before I started to cry._

XXXJAMMFXX

Suddenly I heard Gail call out "Earth to Claire..." from outside the changing room.

Gail ended up trying on and purchasing the 2nd dress, the floor length floral I had considered. I quietly hoped Joe had someplace to take Gail because she was stunning in it.

And I actually found shoes to match and I purchased the four inch round toed heels in the same color as the middle layer of chiffon, not Jimmy Choos. Gail said she had a gold clutch and the perfect necklace - a gold chain that knotted and hung low in the front.

There were two more boutiques that were both a bust and as we stepped out of the second boutique, we realized it had rained. We had been having such a good time that neither of us had noticed. The storm had blown through, leaving behind a rainbow.

"My Grandma-ma used to always tell me rainbows were a sign that something good was gonna happen," Gail commented. Little did I know how right Gail's Grandma-ma was going to be.

At the last shoppe before lunch, I found a dress for A Christmas Party or New Years Eve. It was only September so I did not have a date as of yet, but maybe _He_ would ask me. A girl can hope. It was a Michael Kors. Christmas red with a jacquard floral print. It fit perfectly, accentuated my curves and hid my flaws. My ass looked great in this dress. What more could I want? So I bought it. Now I was officially broke.

And so, with purchases in hand, we went to lunch.

Number 16 was to die for. I had the Steak Salad with the house vinaigrette and glass of Pinot Noir and Gail had the Grilled Salmon with Asparagus and Hollandaise sauce with a glass of crisp Chardonnay. We had to have dessert so we split a Salted Almond Truffle Tart with our Cappuccino's. We giggled, laughed, shared food and had a wonderful time with this _girls only_ outing.

After lunch, at my suggestion, we dropped our purchases off at the hotel, changed clothes and went to the Botanical Gardens. It was fall and just walking the grounds relaxed us both. The colors were amazing. Poplar, Maples, Oaks, Dogwood, Cedars all dressed in their magical fall colors. The grounds were beautifully landscaped, lawns manicured, lily covered ponds, trellises adorned with vines and even a beautiful columned portico covered a walkway with marble benches to take in the views. We found, with the help of a map, the hot house and, of course for me, the herb garden.

"Someday," I confided in Gail, "When I am retired and very old and very gray, I will live in an old house, all covered in vines and have two gardens… one for vegetables and the other for herbs and medicinals. Perhaps I'll raise bees, like Sherlock Holmes did in his old age." I said wistfully.

"I thought you were going to say... _lived 12 little girls, in two straight lines_..." Gail laughed, "I'd love to see you in your garden, on your knees, with dirt under your fingernails and a floppy straw hat. I think I'd pay to see it, in fact."

We shared the laugh.

"You gonna live in this house all alone, Claire?"

"Unless Mr. Right comes along, I suppose I'll have to. Me and what, Fred the 4th, I suppose." I answered with a longing sigh. "And you Gail, what to do you wish for?" I inquired, trying to deflect the conversation away from my love life or lack there of.

"I already have all that I could ever need. I have a fine husband who loves me and our boy, Lenny. We have our health and a good life here. Joe and I both have our families and we have our friends," and she took my hand. "We are blessed and I want for nothing more." Gail closed her eyes and whispered "Thank you Lord."

When Gail opened her eyes and saw the envy on my face, she looked upward and said, "Oh, I have an addendum Lord, a tall, dark and handsome man for my friend here, would be nice."

And we giggled and hugged.

"I have almost given up on that ever happening for me," I said with a hint of melancholy. "Another couple of years and I will be forty," released a heavy sigh. "I am too busy to date right now, not that many are asking. Maybe I am just not Marriage Material."

"Don't say that Claire. You just haven't met Mr. Right yet, that's all. What about one of the Doctor's at the hospital? Joe said some of them have asked him about you…" Gail said looking at me in question.

"A couple of them have asked, but I don't know, they just aren't very interesting. We have coffee downstairs and I find I excuse myself before I even finish the cup. All they want to talk about is themselves, work and how horrible the x-wife is. I'm more that just that, aren't I, Gail?" I asked as I kicked the small pebbles that makes up the path. "What if I have already met Mr. Right and they are not as attracted to me as I am to them? What if they are my Mr. Right but I am their Miss Wrong?"

"Joe mentioned a tall red-headed fellow he'd caught you in the cafeteria having coffee a couple of times." Gail stated and watched my face for a reaction. "Is that your Mr. Right?"

"Jamie" One of the few times I quietly allowed the name to roll off my tongue as his face appeared before my eyes.

Gail grabbed my hand and headed for the nearest bench. Once seated, Gail cried, rather loudly… "Spill it girl. The way you just said that man's name and those little heart eyes you made... you are not sending an _'I'm not interested in him'_ vibe to me, at all. Tell me everything."

20 minutes later Gail was shaking her head. "He never told you he had a girlfriend. This chick just came up to you and you just took her word for it that she's his girl? And then you leave, didn't even give the guy a chance to explain? Maybe she's a stalker, Claire or she likes him but he doesn't return the feelings. This guy sounds into you if you ask me. He always seemed to find a reason to spend time alone with you while he visited with his brother-in-law."

"I don't know, Gail" I expressed with a bit of a whine. "I wish it weren't true but I am afraid it is. His sister was there as well. Said this Laoghaire, and her two daughters live with them, on the family farm. Jenny told me, in no uncertain terms, Jamie is soon to be engaged and that leads to marriage." I said with a sigh.

"Soon to be engaged is not _engaged_ Claire… My point is, you didn't give the guy a chance to explain himself. He probably doesn't even know why you're not talking to him anymore. You convicted him without giving him a chance to defend himself" Gail said with fierceness. "You need to hear what that man has to say, before you kick him to the curb."

I nodded. Gail was right, I did owe Jamie that much. I just hoped it was the answer I wanted to hear.

XXJAMMFXX

"So," Gail started, as she checked my hair in the back for the hundredth time and secured the necklace around my neck, "when you see Jamie at this Soiree, because he will find you like a heat seeking missile, I guarantee it. And he explains EVERYTHING, you will then, excuse yourself, step outside and call me right away, you hear me?" Gail said with a grin and gave my shoulders a shake. I honestly did not know what I would have done without her.

"I promise Gail. You'll be the first person I call. Now Cinderella better leave. Google Maps says it's a 2 hour drive. And your husband will not be happy with me if I am late and miss any of it."

I hugged her, waved good bye to she and Joe as I back out of their driveway in my little pumpkin and toward the castle and my prince, Diana Krall played softly in the background.

XXJAMMFXX

With more and more frequency I was being called to fill in on team simulations. I knew they liked my work and I got along great with the teams I had worked with, though I had, as of yet worked for _his_ team. I had not even run into Murtagh. Currently, it was every other weekend, a long 4 day weekend, filling in as the team's assigned medic on field maneuvers only. The Hospital was unaware that I had been asked to make the move permanent. I told Lieutenant-Colonel MacKenzie that I would think about it.

It was another night maneuver. I was assigned to team D, Delta. I was on my assigned mount, _Thistle,_ a gentle, sure footed, shaggy brown mount. She was sweetheart and took prestigious care of me. I was given two large saddle bags in which to store my gear. I had showed the guy in appropriations what I needed and by the end of the week I had it. He had replaced the actual bags with medical boxes. It was a great invention. I never asked how or where he acquired it. I also had several blankets and a sleeping bag rolled up and tied to the back of the saddle and two canteens. Only one was water; the other, whisky of course.

We'd had steady rain for most of the night. Suddenly someone cried _Ambush!_ I was ordered to stay behind. Someone would be back to collect me and away my team rode. I found a stream nearby, checked my surroundings, dismounted and allowed Thistle a rest and a drink. Thistle nickered and I looked up to see the outline of a rider on horseback on the far side of the shallow stream. With the darkness and no stars, I did not realize who it was until they smiled. I'd have known that smile anywhere. "Murtagh!" I proclaimed rather loudly.

"Claire?"

"Yes, Murtagh. It's me. Now go away before Delta captures you."

"Naw, Willie and Angus are leading them on a merry chase while Rupert, Simon and Grant make off with the prize. 'Tis coos we are rescuing tonight and they follow Rupert like bees to honey. Even ye ken that, aye lass?"

I laughed. I knew. I'd heard Rupert spin his Pied Piper tales several times. I knew. Team Alpha had this simulation in the bag.

"Ye won't have yer wee medical bag with ye now?"

"Always, you know that. Why?"

"Weel, one of the team might have need of yer services. Would ye be will'n to come with me?" He dismounted and crossed the stream as he talked, leading his horse behind him.

"Murtagh, I don't think that's allowed. I'm suppose to wait here for Delta to come fetch me."

"Ye would no' want the lad to suffer, would ye now, lass? No' when yoo have those magic healing fingers at ye disposal."

"Wouldn't want _what_ lad to suffer, Murtagh? We both know that there is one I _would_ rather see suffer than help..."

And with that my world went black.

I came to draped over the back of a moving horse. I could see Thistle amiable walking along behind us. "Jesus Murtagh, you stink." I stated as fact as I struggled to slide off the side of the horse. "You smell like shit. When was the last time you bathed?"

Laughter. "God it's good to see ye too, lass." Murtagh said as he stopped the horse and let me slide to the ground. "Jamie will be thrilled as well though probably no' Dougal, I don't suppose. I do'na think he'll think it wise for me to have absconded with another team's medic."

"Where exactly is your teams medic, anyway? Tomas, right?"

"Tomas was shot, with paint, so he's pretend dead and back at base camp by now. So we have no medic. Lucky I came across yoo, aye?"

"Fine. I'll help, since I am captured. Unless the injured party is Jamie. Jamie can suffer until we get back to base as far as I am concerned." I said with convection, then added, "it isn't Jamie, is it Murtagh? Tell me he's not hurt."

I took Thistle's reins from Murtagh and mounted. Away we rode, at a full gallop, no less. In the pitch black darkness of night, raining heavily, through the woods. No wonder the first time I met Jamie he had a huge abrasion on his head, I thought. No more than ten minutes later, Murtagh halted.

Suddenly we exited the grove of trees and there were the horses tethered to a line. Hamish and Alec were there to take Murtagh's mount and my Thistle. Murtagh grunted as he placed my saddle bag over his shoulder and walked us toward the small, dark cabin nearby. Once inside there was a small fire in the fireplace and I could clearly see most of Team A, Alpha was present. Dripping wet, but all accounted for. Dougal raised an eyebrow when Murtagh and I approached.

"And just where did ye find Doctor Beauchamp, Murtagh?"

I noticed Jamie, sitting on a stool, next to Dougal. He looked up briefly and made quick eye contact with me, then lowered his head and moaned quietly. Was he really hurt or was it only to get my attention? There was only one way for me to know.

"Team Delta abandoned her..."

"They didn't abandon me. They left me behind..." and I stopped talking as I realized I had just confirmed Murtagh's statement for him. I approached Jamie instead and left Murtagh and Dougal to argue the merits of stealing me in Gàidhlig. My comprehension of Gaelic was getting better but I would never let them know.

I made a sweep of Jamie's upper body. I could see fresh, sticky blood, covered his shirt around his right shoulder. I didn't ask, I just pulled the neck of the shirt aside as Jamie hissed. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Jamie" I whispered. "That's a bullet wound. The exit." and I poked the hole with my finger.

"Shite Sassenach. Do ye no' have it in ye to be gentle?" he hissed.

I walked around behind him and checked. "Yep, this is the entrance. Since when do you flee a conflict, Major?" Our eyes met as he looked at me over his shoulder.

"Never. No' in a million years." He whispered. "Real bullet?" he asked quietly and added a quick "shussh".

I furrowed my forehead and pursed my lips into a hard, straight line. Jamie was acknowledging he knew he had been shot, with a bullet, a real one. Simulations only "fired" paint balls. Not even rubber bullets, let alone regular ones. From behind would imply a team member, but who? And why Jamie? Murtagh must have known. That's why he found me and knocked me out to bring me back. For all my talk about how much I didn't care, Murtagh knew if Jamie were hurt, I would break all the rules and to take care of him. I could be trusted to keep my mouth shut and let them handle the fact that it was a bullet in whatever way they saw fit.

"I won't attempt to remove the bullet here, but I need to staunch the bleeding, Jamie." I explained. "It's going to hurt a bit."

He nodded.

I opened one of my saddlebag suitcases, as Team Delta referred to them, and began to clean the wound as best I could. No easy matter in a dark cabin with only a small fire to light my way. I was in the process of packing and bandaging the wound for travel when Rupert came barging in. "We have the prize. Only the bull is marked but the rest of the herd followed him. We need to move now." He barked as he scanned the room. "Hey Claire. Good 'te see ye again," he said and winked, like he'd just walked into a pub and seen me.

Dougal turned to Jamie and asked, "Do you thing you can ride, lad? Does ye shoulder pain ye much?"

"Aye, it hurts but I'll no' be left behind." He said as he stood. He wavered so much, I stepped up under his arm and wrapped my arms around his waist to keep him from tumbling to the floor. "I can ride." He announced weakly.

"Clearly" I said in reply. "If it's Donas, with that arm in a sling, you won't be riding for long and will break something when he throws you. Maybe your rock hard head" I scoffed in return. "I'll ride with him, sir." I stated to Dougal. "We can lead my horse behind us. That way, if Jamie needs assistance, I'll be right there."

Dougal shot both of us a suspicious look but nodded his head. One by one we filed out of the cabin. Murtagh helped Jamie as I carried my saddlebag. Donas nickered and pulled on my jacket sleeve in greeting as I climbed up and took my seat in front of Jamie. "Give me the reins, Sassenach. I'll be damned if I'll let ye be in complete control, aye" and he gave me his usual _blinky-winky_ thing. I huffed in return.

The Lieutenant-Colonel led our merry band of thieves, complete with the highland cows meandering along, grazing as we traveled. I must have fallen asleep at some point, lulled by Donas' smooth gait and warmed by Jamie's natural body heat, his plaid cocooning us against the steady rain. I woke to morning's dawn and Jamie softly whispered Gàidhlig to the back of my head. Things he probably should not be saying. Things I most certainly only dreamt of hearing. We reached base camp without further incident. Once the cows were penned, we made for the horse trailers. From there Murtagh said he would mind the horses as I got Jamie on the first transport back to base and the small infirmary I called my weekend office.

XXJAMMFXX

Any endorphins that kicked in are long gone and I am starting to loose steam. I have passed Bellfield Park on the other side of the Ness and I can see the bell tower of St. Andrews Cathedral. The time is 10:05 am.


	5. Chptr 5: The Soiree

Marriage Material - Chapter 5 The Soiree

Claire POV

I find my 2nd wind and hit my stride, I'm not cramping and the endorphin's start to kick in. I did have to slow my pace a little; I knew I would not be able to maintain that marathon time I'd started with. I slow down to take a sip from my water bottle but keep moving. I am having to run on the grass to avoid the plethora of baby strollers, bikers and dog walkers that are now utilizing the path. I do not know the time but is must be after 10:00 am for the path to be this crowded. The day has begun for the world. It's all good. I will be home long before 11 am. I passed the Cathedral and noticed the parking lot was full. A rummage sale. I love a good rummage sale. Perhaps I will stop and have a look on my way back.

 _XXJAMMFXX_

I heard the bagpipes and bodhràn long before I saw them, their music traveled on the cool, light breeze. I found the players standing proudly beside the main gate as I pulled onto The Beannachd Estate. Two huge white stone plaques proudly displaying the Estate name on the gate column on the left side of the drive and what must be the MacKenzie Coat of Arms on the right; clearly announcing that a somebody lives here to all that drive passed. The tree lined drive up to the house is magnificent. Trees hundreds of years old, by the size of them, lit by lanterns to guide my way. It must be three miles of long sprawling drive through woods that leads up to the main house. One could train for a marathon just by running to collect the post once a day. I passed several forks in the road... one sign said Stables, another said Distillery, and a third fork with a sign that said it led to the pool, tennis courts and hot house. Amazing. What a paradise. When I finally pulled up to the main house, I maneuvered the car to the side and stopped. A valet welcomed me as they opened the car door and helped me out. Thank God for the on board navigation system or I never would have found this place in a million years. Roads, apparently this far out into the Highlands, do not require street signs and I laughed to myself. How do you give someone directions? Tell them to count trees? Thirty-second birch on the left is my drive? Everyone out here must receive a copy of _A Dendrolgist's Guide to Native Trees and Shrubs_ as a house warming gift. I made myself giggle.

"Beauchamp, Claire" I said to the valet. I left the keys in the ignition and the car running. The young man handed me a plastic fob as he slipped behind the wheel of my car. I handed him a 10 pound note hoping that would be considered a generous enough tip to keep my car parked at least in this district. I shook my dress skirt out, draped my shawl over my arm and took a deep breath. "You can do this, Claire. Easy Peasy," I whispered encouragingly to myself as my car pulled away. I took a deep breath and made the first step toward the house, almost twisting my ankle as the heel of my shoe lost purchase in the small stones that made up the drive. "Shit" I cursed under my breath. I needed to be able to dance tonight in the bloody 5" heels and right now I could not even walk into the house without stumbling. I promised Gail and Joe a fairy tale night and I was going to deliver. I'd better figure out how to walk in these shoes, and fast. I knew I should have practiced.

A young man, dressed all in black approached me with a tray of lovely golden cocktails and bowed as he presented it to me.

"Oh my" I declared. "My first drink and I have not even entered the house." I would be 3 sheets to the wind tonight if I were not careful. "What delights are you offering?" I inquired as I reached for a glass.

"I have the pleasure of enticing you with the signature drink of the evening," the young man informed me. "It is a _Tùlach Àrd_ ," he said straightening from the bow. "It's basically an _Old Pal_ \- Whisky, Vermouth and Campari with a lemon twist. It's name is the MacKenzie Battle Cry, madame," he leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial reply, "if that means anything to you." He handed me a napkin with what I assumed was the battle cry blazed across the center, and fresh thing that he was, he winked at me.

"Well, bottoms up then" and I raised my glass to him in toast and took a sip of the lovely concoction while I allowed my eyes to take in the nights first wonders.

A beautiful gray stone castle, complete with its own little draw bridge, stood before me. I managed to reach the wooden bridge and crossed it, along with several other party goers, without incident. I noted the water was a long narrow pond rather than a true moat, and I traced my fingers along one of the sizable chains that would, if needed, pull the draw bridge up to block the entrance. _Or exit_ I thought to myself as I crossed under the archway of the outer wall. I hoped the castle would not fall under siege during the party. The thought made me smile as I envisioned knights in shining armor on magnificent mounts... On the other side of the arch I found a wonderland. I entered a large courtyard, where hundreds of small blue lights decorated the potted trees and what looked to be a covered well. There were thousands of white lights draped over head like a privately owned galaxy. It was a sight to behold. Simply breathtaking.

The courtyard's décor was right out of a history book and would have made my Uncle Lamb proud. 18th century I would venture to guess, though the date on the plaque at the entrance stated 1623. There was a covered stall, compete with a brown gelding ensconced in the attached small paddock. It was made completely of un-honed, small trees. A blacksmith worked iron on an anvil next to an open flame was set up in close proximity to the paddock. There were chickens, ducks and peacocks milling about and an old wooden wheelbarrow, complete with wooden wheel, along with a few buckets, shovels and hoes and a scythe, casually tossed in a corner. Strolling the courtyard casually, was a woman with a lute, softly strumming. Against a wall was a gentleman, with a table and several kegs, handing out pints of ale. Two women close by were making candles. Near some steps a woman pinned boutonnières on all the willing gentlemen's jackets and another offered wrist corsages to the ladies. All were dressed in period clothing. All there for the guest's amusement.

It was then I noticed the 22 steps leading to the castle's main entrance. Holding my drink and shawl in one hand, my clutch and the front of my dress' skirt in the other, I made my way toward the small mountain that was, apparently, the only way into the house, and the party residing there in. I squared my shoulders, adjusted my balance and began to walk on the balls of my feet until I found myself at the bottom of the stone steps that led up to the front entrance. I stopped at the base of what I estimated to be a medium size climb trying to decide just how I was going to manage the steps without falling. With all my hands currently had to deal with, I did not have a free hand in which to steady myself on the stone banister. While still pondering my dilemma, I suddenly felt a hand at my elbow. Startled, I turned and discovered a very dashing British Lieutenant, in full dress uniform, looking at me. He had a wicked grin on his face and his hand had a gentle but firm hold of my right arm.

"Hello," announced the British Officer that had appeared from nowhere. He was tall, with mouse brown hair, tied back in a queue and rather dull eyes. He was, however, impeccably dressed in his spotless uniform. He spoke with a smile, exhibiting straight, lovely, white teeth for my inspection. "Lieutenant Jeremy Foster of Her Majesty's Armed Forces, Madame, at your service. If I might be so bold as to offer aid, you look as if you could use some assistance." He removed his grip and offered me his arm.

"Why yes, that would be most appreciated" I replied with a bit of relief. "I'm afraid I am not used to heels, you see." I smiled back and allowed the hand holding my half empty glass to rest on top of the proffered arm. "I'm Claire, Claire Beauchamp. Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Foster."

"English, even better" he said with a chuckle. "We can huddle together in the corner and commiserate, for we will certainly be in the minority here this evening. Please, there is no need for formality between us. Call me Jeremy or Jem, as my friend do, if you will. I just know we are destined to be good friends." He said as he removed my signature drink from my hand.

As if on queue, two men jogged past us going up the stairs, their kilts swinging as they moved.

"Our climb will need to be a good deal slower, I'm afraid" I said nodding after the agile Scots. "I am unsteady at walking, there is certainly no way I am up to jogging this bit of mountain" and I gave the Lieutenant an unsteady grin. Jem, my ass. I was old enough to be his... extremely young auntie and I smiled to myself.

"Do you know it is rumored that a True Scotsman wears nothing under his kilt?" He stated while watching the two men reach the top of the stairs and entered the house. "Absolutely nothing" the Lieutenant commented with a small note of shock in his voice and a bit of a grin on his face. "They are savages really, I mean, who does that?" He asked rhetorically as he gathered my hand and rather than leave it placed on top of his arm, he tucked it securely on the inside of his arm, holding it lightly to his side.

I came to a halt on the first step and looked the Lieutenant in the eye. "I have become acquainted with several Scots as of late and have found each and everyone of them to be exceptionally brave, fiercely loyal, wonderfully funny, educated and in possession of a kindness toward strangers to be among their many attributes. Not once, in any of my conversations with any of them, has led me to believe them to be savages. I, as well as you, have been invited to this wonderous home to attend a party given by one of your so called savages. You do your host, as well as Scots in general, a dishonor, Lieutenant" as I freed my hand. "I think I can manage the rest of the way by myself, thank you." I shot him the dirtiest look in my repertoire and snatched my drink from him.

"Claire," He uttered, his face aghast. "Please forgive my impertinence. I did not mean an unkindness or to offend. I was only attempting to engage you in light conversation in an effort to take your attention from the climb. The Scots simply provided quick subject matter as their dress was a visual we momentarily shared. I simply repeated a bit of gossip. I meant no harm nor disrespect." He gave me a look that was truly apologetic.

I would not make the door without Lieutenant Foster's help but once at the top I could simply part company with the shallow nitwit. I swallowed my anger, nodded my head and took a steady first step and managed it. I was grateful for the Lieutenant's arm and leaned on it heavily as we proceeded with the assent.

Thinking all was well, the Lieutenant said "Onward and upward" with a bit too much glee and removed my _Tùlach Àrd,_ once again, from my hand. My hand, found itself held captive in the crook of his elbow and press firmly against his chest this time. I had the sneaking suspicion he was not planning on releasing it anytime soon. If I didn't know better, I would think I had just been made prisoner by this Red Coated English Officer.

"Are you always in the habit of rescuing Old Ladies in Distress?" I asked the Lieutenant as I carefully watched my skirts and foot placement as we climbed. The Lieutenant was being quite careful and courteous with me now that I elected to ignored his offensive kilt comment. He allowed me to set the pace of the climb. I felt quite sure that, if I required an hour to climb the steps, Lieutenant Foster would be by my side every step of the way.

"Your beauty is timeless, Claire, though I think you are not but a few years older than I" he said quite pleased with himself. "Please tell me you can dance" and turned his head to look at me as I replied.

Oh, I thought, it was going to be a night of cheeky, young men and sighed. "Yes, I do love to dance, and under normal circumstances I would, but probably not to the same sort of music you dance to and I am not sure if I will partake in the pleasantry this evening. I can hardly climb a flight of steps without aid. I'm afraid dancing may be out of the question."

"Well, if you will allow me to be so bold as to claim the first two dances we will see just what you are capable of in those lovely green shoes of yours. I promise it will not be anything too grandiose or fast paced. I will take prestigious care of you, Claire, I promise. That is, unless you are here with someone...?" Lieutenant Foster did not look around for a possible _someone else_ but rather stared intently at my face as I answered.

"No, no, you are quite right, I have arrived alone, but I am to meet up with friends here" I lied. "Scots to be exact" I stated with a purposeful, sharp inflection to my tone. Suddenly I was at the top of the stairs. All 22 safely traversed and behind me. I turned and smiled at my savior. "Well done Lieutenant. You have managed to distracted me long enough to see me safely to the door. Thank you very much" I said as I gave him a mock curtsy and worked to extricate my hand from his grasp. Successful, I grabbed my drink and walked into Beannachd unaided.

XXJAMMFXX

Captain Murtagh Fraser smiled. The lass certainly had spirit and had defended the Scots to the English Lieutenant. Ian Murray had been right. This Sassenach was different. Jamie had asked him to watch for Claire's arrival. He had been approaching her from behind to escort her in, when the brazen Lieutenant got to her first. He needed to find Jamie and let him ken she was here.

XXJAMMFXX

"Claire. Let me have your wrap and handbag. I will have it checked for you" Lieutenant Foster said as he chased after me. I had stupidly stopped upon hearing my name. When he caught up with me, he continued, "Give me that silly whisky drink as well and tell me what you would like to hold in that pretty little hand of yours. A glass of champagne, perhaps? I shall acquire it from the bar and meet you in the room on the other side of those doors, in say five minutes?" and he nodded his head at the doors to my left.

"Lieutenant... "

"Now Claire, I asked that you call me Jem."

It was time to shut this budding friendship down. He needed to spend time with the twenty somethings gathering somewhere at this party or the others adorned in Red Coats. "Lieutenant Foster," I began again. "You have been most generous with your time" I said and started to turned away. "I think I have monopolized too much of it already. I see several very pretty, young women here this evening. As young ladies are always in want of a dance partner, they will soon be vying for your time this evening. I will not be dancing so I believe this is where we shall part company." I smiled sweetly at him and continued, "As for the drink, I happen to be rather fond of whisky so I will keep the _Tùlach Àrd,"_ and pulled the hand, in which the drink resided, out of his reach. "I can manage my own wrap and handbag, thank you," and nodded to him in kindness. "I am much too old to be demanding such attentions from a dashing and single Lieutenant. You need to circulate, as do I. Now get in there and make the ladies swoon" and I gave him a gentle push with my purse. I carefully turned and walked away, trying not to drop my dragging shawl as I walked. I exited the main hall through the first door I happened upon on the right, never once looking behind me, praying Lieutenant Jeremy Foster would soon find someone else to amuse and hover over.

 _No Gail, I did not take a picture._

The smoke in the room hit me full in the face when I stepped though the door and closed it behind me. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ I thought, the room was on fire, when in actuality, I had found my way right into what must be the smoking room. I waved my purse across my face like a fan in an attempt to find any air worth breathing. I was sure there wasn't any. I raised my head and glanced through the smoky haze with rapidly, tearing eyes. This was a man's room to be sure, and crowded with them, all with drinks and cigars in their hands. The room was covered in beautiful wood from floor to ceiling. A huge fireplace centered on the wall to my left, two large leather sofas and several clusters of beautiful, padded, high back chairs covered in plaid, comfortably placed in front of the large blaze. There was not a throw pillow or frilly curtain in sight. Several large Turkish Rugs covered the floor. The walls were pummeled, not with fine artwork but animal heads; stuffed and mounted. I gasped when I realized just how many animals lost their heads in order to decorate these walls. Lieutenant-Colonel MacKenzie must have a taxidermist on staff.

"Cough. Cough. Cough." I started to choke. I had sucked in a large amount of the smokey air when I gasped at the immensity of wildlife on display and my lungs retaliated. I finished everything but one last swallow of my signature drink, but what I really needed was to get out of here and find water. The men in close proximity had stopped talking and were now staring at me, the one and only woman in the room. Crap. I'd smell like smoke for the entire evening if I stayed here. So much for my extravagant purchase of Chanel No. 5. I did an about-face in an attempt to quickly exit back the way I came and stopped short; the good Lieutenant was standing right behind me.

 _Are you kidding me?_ I thought.

"Smoker, are you?" The impudent Lieutenant inquired with a mischievous smile upon his lips. "I would not have pegged you for one. Whisky and cigars..." he hummed as his eyes gave me a very obvious, and appreciative, once over, nodding his head several times as he did. There was that bloody grin again. "You certainly are quite a find, Claire. Shall I acquire us a couple of cigars, then? We can find a seat near the fire, smoke, drink and get to know one another a little better, perhaps."

A rhyme my Uncle Lamb had recited to me, when I was little, popped into my head... _"I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me. But what can be the use of him is more than I can see..."_ and I giggled. The good Lieutenant was going to be a challenge to shake I realized and sighed.

"Doctor" I heard someone call out from the smoke filled room which now lay behind me. _Rock and a Hard Place_. _Lesser of Two Evils_ , were just the first two thoughts that popped into my head. _Disappear into Thin Air_ was the one I really wanted. No such luck. "Dr. Beauchamp" was quickly followed by "Claire." I smiled at Lieutenant Foster and turned to face Lieutenant-Colonel Dougal MacKenzie, the host of this Soiree. His was the voice that paged me. I watched in horror as he unabashedly undressed me with his eyes while he walked toward me in meter eating strides, a whisky and cigar in one hand and as lecherous a smile, as any I had ever seen, fixed on his face.

He was dressed, as I glanced around the room, like almost every other male I could see, in what I assumed was a Scotsman's formal wear. I had heard other women at the hospital speak about it in the locker room once. Looking around the room I now fully understood why they swooned and fanned themselves as they spoke about _a man in a kilt_. A Scot in full dress was a sight to behold; a room full of them was a vision I would not likely ever forget. From the waist up it was formal, almost tuxedo wear – starched white shirt, black jacket, beautiful silver buttons, vest and tie. The Lieutenant-Colonel's rank was proudly displayed on his right jacket breast. Below the waist was a formal kilt, of what I knew to be the MacKenzie clan plaid, a beautiful leather belt and the most ostentatious sporran I thought ever made. I was doing exactly what it's movement intended to have me do... stare at his crotch. I looked up to see a very lewd grin on his face and when he stopped several steps from me, ending his journey with a not so subtle, and obviously practiced, pelvic thrust, making the sporran bounce. Solely for my benefit, of that I was sure.

The movement made me jerk backwards, almost sloshing what little was left of my drink. I felt the heat and redness encroach my face at lightening speed. I had never seen a man act so sexually obvious with anyone in my life, let alone with me. Here, in a room full of men. I was terrified he was going to grab my breast at any moment and I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself to cover my décolletage. He noted the action and gave a small laugh while retaining that lecherous grin. Hearing his laugh, I realized I had reacted exactly the way he had wanted. He had most certainly noticed my embarrassment as well.

As he stepped forward, he lifted a hand and placed it firmly on mine, resting slightly above my bosom, and said "Oh, do'na go all shy on me now, Doctor. No' in a dress like that." I swear I felt his fingers move, in no small attempt to cop a feel. "No need to cover up on my account. I certainly appreciate a nice cleavage and yours is really quite lovely." His smile gave me the chills. "The back has quite a bonnie view as well." He said with a bit of a growl inflected into the pronouncement and raised an eyebrow suggestively.

It was all I could do to hold my ground and refrain from slapping him for his impertinence. I would not be intimidated by this man. I stood resolve and straightened my back to pronounce that very fact. I had to deal with single-track minded men like him my entire military career, although the Lieutenant-Colonel was a new level of incivility for me. Even the private hospitals employed their fair share. Neanderthals, all of them.

The Lieutenant-Colonel snapped the fingers of his raised hand and a one of the serving staff appeared beside him. He took my almost empty glass and handed it to the waiter.

"You are a guest in my home, Claire. I must make ye feel welcome. It is my sworn duty as Laird of Beannachd. This young man," and he motioned to the hired help beside him "will take ye wrap and purse for ye. Allow me to help..." and he moved that final step forward, and like a striking adder, he grabbed my right arm.

I tried to jerk away in reaction to his sudden movement. It was a good thing he had taken that glass or I would have been wearing what was left of that signature drink. I needed to leave before this became a situation I could not control. My eyes darted to the left. All clear. If I turned quickly I might make the door.

As with any good hunter, his eyes registered my intentions and his hand tightened slightly on my upper arm before I could move and free myself.

I gave him a stern look and stated firmly "Thank you, but I am in need of my shawl for the time being. I will keep it and my purse for now. I appreciate your kind offer Lieutenant-Colonel. Now, _please_ , release me" and I tried to free my arm with a good pull.

With a tilt of his head, the Lieutenant-Colonel began to smile with amusement, never releasing my arm nor lessening his grip. I was suddenly empathetic with the heads displayed on the walls. I felt like the proverbial mouse being played with by an extremely skilled mouser. "Now Claire, yer a guest in my house. Please, call me Dougal."

"Good sir, the lady has asked that you unhand her. I must insist that you comply with her request" the good Lieutenant stated as he stepped forward from behind me and placed himself at my side, unable to come between myself and our host. Dougal's grasp on my arm prevented it. The Lieutenant's face was stern as he spoke as severely as he dared to our host.

The Lieutenant-Colonel laughed, eyebrows raised, eyes full of astonishment. "Are ye trying to intimidate me in my own home, Laddie? Might I remind ye, you're an _invited_ guest. I will release the Lass when I am good and ready; after we have finished our little discussion. Now, why don't you leave the adults to talk. I am sure you have some wee friends about somewhere that you need to find. Go. Shoo" and he motioned with his chin toward the door behind us.

I noticed a small mob forming behind the Lieutenant-Colonel. We were creating quite a scene. Several men gathering behind him looked unsettled by what was transpiring and I don't think they were looking to defend Lieutenant Foster or myself. "I'll be fine Lieutenant" and I placed my hand on his arm. "The Lieutenant-Colonel, I'm sure, would simply like to inquire after one of his men, who is currently under my care, so we will need to speak privately, you understand. There is no need for you to stay." I needed to get the Lieutenant out of the room before a brawl ensued. "I am quite sure you will find me later. Thank you for taking such prestigious care of me. I am grateful." I smiled as best I could to help the Lieutenant understand that it was in his best interest to leave; that I would not be harmed.

The Lieutenant shifted his stance slightly while trying to decide what to do. I could see his face trying to work out whether the Lieutenant-Colonel would indeed begin a fight over me. I could read he was uncomfortable leaving me in this room, without an escorted. When he finally spoke, he said "If you are quite sure then, Claire, I will look for you later for that dance you promised me." He raised my hand to his lips and place a gentle kiss on the back of it. He gave it a soft squeeze and released it. His face asked me, one last time if I wanted him to stay, and I knew he would if I looked the tiniest bit anxious.

"I'll be fine Lieutenant." I said as I straightened my back. "I will find you later for that dance then."

He smiled weakly and nodded. "Sir" he said to his host, bowed and left.

"I ken ye did'na bring him with ye, Claire" Dougal said with a smirk on his face and lightened his grip on my arm, though not releasing me completely. "Ye've been here less than thirty minutes so that means ye met him between the drive and this game room. Ye work fast woman, I'll say that for ye." He emptied his glass and took a pull from his cigar, releasing the smoke out the side of his mouth, so as not to blow it in my face. "He is no but a wee laddie... is that yer preference then, Claire? You like 'em young? Or ye've just never experienced the pleasures that an aulder man can provide... With age comes certain knowledge, ye ken..." He raised that suggestive eyebrow at me again and wiggled it in emphasis this time. "Perhaps you might find that a man that kens the arts of the bedroom might be more te yer like'n..." His eyes darkened and his stare became much too intense.

"Fine. The Lieutenant is gone, now let go of me." I repeated firmly and tried to ignore the suggestive look he had just given me. I rolled my shoulder as I tried to remove my arm from his grip; I only succeeded in having the grip tighten yet again. The arm was going to have bruises in the morning. "Jeremy is a new acquaintance I was just in the process of getting to know, not that it is any of your business. What is it you so desperately needed to speak to me about?"

"Jeremy, aye? First name basis? Interesting." Dougal replied. "Needed to speak? ... No, I just like to be in the company of a beautiful woman 'tis all. I almost dinna recognize ye without yer scrubs and with yer hair down. Ye look bonnie, woman. Verra bonnie indeed." He licked his lips when he finished speaking, like he was thinking of interesting ways to eat me. I swear he tighten his grip on my arm as he thought. I was starting to feel queasy, my stomach tied in knots. I was a whole lot more than just a little uncomfortable now. I definitely had almost no control. How dare this man make me feel this way. So threatened. Almost violated.

"I think it would be best if I left..." I stuttered, trying to figure out how to get away from this lech. Without warning, a calm came over me as a hand suddenly came to rest lightly on the small of my back. The very heated skin of a calloused thumb gently rubbed on my naked skin, instantly stilling my rapidly beating heart. I looked over my left shoulder and there _h_ _e_ was. Major James Fraser took the index finger of his other hand and tapped the back of his uncle's, that one that was holding my arm in a vice grip.

The sound I made was almost a sigh as I exhaled. Barely a whisper as I stared up at my rescuer, though I noticed a small glint in the Major's eye as he registered the sound, that abruptly disappeared as he focused solely on his Uncle.

"Dr. Beauchamp asked you nicely, Uncle. I will not." Jamie growled quietly. "Release her or I _will_ have to assist you."

A look of merriment appeared in the Lieutenant-Colonel's eyes and a resounding laugh came spilling from his chest. "Aye, Jamie. Do'na get yer knickers all in a twist, aye. I meant the good Doctor no harm," he stated as his smile dissolved. His eyes shifted from Jamie's to mine and then back to Jamie's. "I was just trying to make her feel comfortable in my home."

"Ye mean uncomfortable, Uncle. Because that is how yer make'n her feel and ye ken it." The Major continued to growl. "I think it's best ye comply with her wishes and release her, what with her be'n a guest and all."

The Lieutenant-Colonel released my arm from his grasp with a huff of defeat. I rubbed it briskly with my hand to help ease the pain. He held his hands up, palms facing Major Fraser and I, as if in surrender. "We will have that conversation a little later Lass," he said directly to me as he backed up a step or two.

I nodded my head at Dougal as I unconsciously inched away from him in an effort to distance myself should he try and grab me again. I backed solidly up against the Major. The Lieutenant-Colonel watched as Major Fraser slipped his arm protectively around my waist and pulled me tightly up against him in response. His Uncle noted that I made no effort to extract myself from the Major's embrace, clearly telling Dougal I had selected a champion. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he nodded in return and walked away. The Major lifted me just enough to raise my feet from the ground, used his body to turn us and set me back down. We left the room through the door Captain Fraser held open.

Captain Fraser. I had never even realized Captain Fraser was there. I smiled at him in relief and he returned my smile and nodded. "Yer alright Lass. We've got ye. You'll come to no harm now."

Major Fraser returned his hand to the small of my back once we found ourselves back in the main hall. He guided me across the hall and behind another closed door.

I turned to face him as I stumbled with my words.. "I don't know how to thank you... what you did... I was very uncomfortable... he would not let go of my arm." My eyes searched the face of Ian Murray's brother-in-law for any idea of what he must think of me.

The Major just looked at me and smiled. He stepped forward and adjusted my shawl to cover my shoulders and back.

"Yer Uncle said he'd _talk_ with you later, Jamie." The Captain said as he entered the room and winked at me.

The room was either a library or music room, I am not sure which. We did not really stay long enough for me to determine. I noticed the walls were floor to ceiling bookshelves made of a beautiful dark wood, a concert grand piano stood off to one side, a fireplace stood in the middle of one wall and what looked to be several rather large oils, of hunting scenes, decorated the walls. Another large Turkish rug covered the seating area. I liked this room. It had a nice feel to it. I wondered who played the piano.

The Major took my hand and walked us across the room and out a pair of french doors that opened to an amazing stone patio that ran the length of the house with steps that led down to a beautifully manicured lawn. The Captain followed behind us, carrying three crystal tumblers and a decanter filled with a beautiful amber liquid. He set them down on the 3 foot stone wall that surrounded the patio and poured two fingers of the liquid into each glass.

We were greeted by two large brown dogs bounding toward us across that manicured lawn, barking. I stopped short as they approached, bounding up the stairs. I stepped back and unintentionally hid behind the Major.

"Sit" Major Fraser sternly commanded and both dogs immediately sat. " _Rosencrantz_ here..." and he stepped to the side, took my hand and placed it on the top of the dog's head "...is a sweetheart. You ken it's him because of the white blaze on his chest. "And..."

"Wait" I interrupted. " _Guildenstern_ is the one with the white paws." And I laughed.

"Aye, verra good Sassenach. Ye do my Aunt Geillis proud. Ye ken either Stoppard or yer Shakespeare, I dinna ken which."

"Stoppard's movie, though it is on my bucket list to go the the Edinburgh Fringe to see their stage production." I said and bent to pet both dogs. "They are beautiful, Major. What is the breed?"

"Scottish Deerhounds." He said proudly. "Since ye have visited my Uncle's Gaming Room, ye ken how fond my Uncle is of hunting."

I shuttered slightly with remembrance. When I finished lavishing my total attention on the hounds, I turned to both men and said "Thank you both for rescuing me. What a fiasco that almost turned into. I knew I should have never come."

"No come? Why would ye no come lass?" Captain Fraser gasped as he handed me a glass of the amber liquid. I passed the glass under my noise and smiled. "Whisky" and took a sizable sip. "A lovely Whisky at that," I said and took another large sip.

Both men exchanged smiles. "Ian said you were different than others, Sassenach, which is really an oxymoron of sorts," The Major stated succinctly. "He said we needed to give ye a chance and ye'd prove yourself. That we would embrace yer Scottish quarks rather than rebuke your English habits."

I smiled and lowered my gaze, embarrassed by the offhanded compliment, and took another sip of the nicely aged whisky. "This is really quite nice. Very smooth."

"I can'na say my uncle kens how to treat a lady, but he does know his way around a good whisky. He does'na believe in cheap libations," the Major said. "'Tis one of the reasons Murtagh and I tolerate this wee cèilidh ( _party_ ) of his every year."

"We come for the free booze," the Captain said with a snort. Laughter blazing in his eyes.

"So, Murtagh and I," Major Fraser began "We will raise our glass in honor of the first English lass to prove herself a capable Scot." They both stood, shoulder to shoulder, looked at me and raised their glasses. With a heartfelt "Slànge" they both drained them.

I raised my glass to them and said "Here's mud in your eye" and drained mine in return.

Murtagh set his glass down. "I need to speak te yer Aunt, Jamie. I'll see ye at supper, aye?" He looked at Jamie and gave me a side look. "Ye can manage te keep the lass entertained until then, I suppose?"

"Aye, Murtagh." Jamie replied with a thoughtful look in his eyes and raised one of his eyebrows in an unasked question.

"Claire," Murtagh said. "Every year at this party, Jamie's Aunt Geillis has a grand buffet. Filled with all kinds of tasty treats. The Team, we all fill up plates and sit together in the dining room and eat as a family which is what we really are. I will see you there. I'll save ye a seat next te me, aye?" He made a formal bow to me and walked away leaving James Fraser and I unchaperoned.

XXJAMMFXX

10:23 am. I pass Ness Bridge, which leads to the Inverness Museum and Art Gallery where _The Monarch of The Glen_ by Sir Edwin Landseer is newly residing. The Royal Stag beautifully represents what is truly Scotland. Proud, strong, fearless; a warrior in the wilderness, standing alone to protect what is his by right. By birth. An adult Red Deer but has not yet reached his full potential, not acquired the sixteen points needed to be titled Monarch. He will, one day; not today though he certainly is majestic, resplendent, even with the meer twelve points he proudly displays. I have always thought of Jamie as I stand and study it, for it envelops the essences of who he is. It is a painting of James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser's inner self, his core. I need to try to get over to see it again, soon, before I leave. It is an important piece for our little museum. I wondered if Joe and Gail would like to go with me.

Instantly I realize what I have done as I pass St. Mary's and race toward the Greig Street Bridge. My speed increasing. The Old High Church lays just on the other side. It is the church _he_ is to be married in today, at 11 am.

I don't stop running. I don't turn around and return to the park. I am pulled forward, like a magnet. Toward the bridge and the church that lay beyond it. Toward my one true love. To Jamie. My Monarch. My home.


	6. Chptr 6: The Soiree Part II

Marriage Material – Chapter 6 The Soiree Part II

Claire POV

I have finished the 12 ½ miles and look to see my time would have been. If I would have made the team or not. 10:26 am. 2 hours 9 minutes. 21 minutes to spare. I smile for a moment as I drop out of my run and into a jog to cross the bridge, never taking my eyes from the church. As I round the wall, I slow to a walk and stop at the foot of the steps leading up to the main doors. I pull my hoodie up over my head and hat and place my sunglasses over my eyes. No one attending this ceremony, save one, has ever seen me in running attire. There is no concern that anyone will recognize me, though it never hurts to take a few precautions.

XXJAMMFXX

I watched the Captain walk away, re-entering the house through the door we had exited. "You know, I understand now why men love to watch women walk away when they are wearing a skirt... the way your kilt moves when you walk... it's hypnotic. Seductive. And very, very sexy." I turned to look at the Major. "Your godfather is a very nice man. Funny, too. Is he married?"

The Major seemed surprised that I asked as his forehead wrinkled. His tone clearly inflected confusion in his reply. "No. My godfather has never married. I don't think he's ever even been on a date, now that I think about it." He looked at me a little sideways, with an unasked question in his eyes. He shook his head to wipe away a thought and cleared his throat, "Ian tells me you're a holistic healer. You prefer herbs to drugs... Do you practice what you preach?"

I blinked. "Done a little homework on me, have you?" I asked with a grin.

The Major looked shocked and his ear tips turned a bit red, with blush. "Weel, I was only listen'n te Ian, out'a kindness..." he stammered. "He said somethi'n about it the other day and so I did a little research, 'tis all."

"I was just teasing, Major. It's alright. It's nice you were interested enough to do some reading on your own. I'm flattered, though I think I am pretty boring. I put myself to sleep sometimes with the things I say."

"No. I do'na think ye are bore'n. I think ye are verra braw for a lass. Clever too. And Jen and I are grateful for all ye've done for Ian." The Major looked at me and opened his mouth to say something more, then closed it. He walked back toward the decanter of whisky and pour himself another, then waved the decanter at me. I followed him and extended my empty glass. "My Aunt Geillis, is quite the gardener," he said to break the silence. "And by that I don't mean your average rose garden. Come," he motioned with his head toward the steps. "Let me show ye her wee herbs and such..."

The Major took prestigious care of me. Making sure to fortify my glass of whisky before we walked down the path. "As lovely as you look in that dress, and as grateful as I am to the seamstress that created it, especially the back of that gown, you will be cold when we leave the shelter of the house." He said as he straightened my shawl over my shoulder, his fingers gently skimming my skin in a light caress.

"We'll have to walk in the grass and I do'na think yer heels will fair very well." He commented and he located someone's gardening Croc's near the steps. I sat on the wall and changed my shoes. I left my heels by the steps and followed him as he led me toward his aunt's garden, whistling for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to escort us.

Approximately twice the length of a Rugby Pitch from the house, we walked through a large fifteen foot hedge and into one of the most amazing private gardens I had ever seen. A secret garden, completely hidden from the house. Even from the 2nd floor patio we had just left. I have always had a thing for gardens; for plants, especially ones with healing properties. A unquenchable fascination. I turned to Major Fraser and gasped, "How in the world did you know?"

"I guessed" he answered shyly, "with a little help from Ian. "We knew about your preference for medicinal herbs. A fascination my Uncle's 2nd wife shares. Consider it my way of say'n _Thank You_ for what ye have done for mo bràthair," and he offered me a smile.

I stopped to take in the awe inspiring view other side of the hedge. The space opened to a large cultivated semi-circle, much like a tiered amphitheater, that ended, not at a stage but a beautiful lily covered pond. There was an eight foot stone wall on the left of the path that led to a shorter 4 foot wall, which separated the garden from a small grassy span that surrounded the pond. There were four paths off to the right as you walked down the main bricked path, with six deep steps that lead down to each separate tier. Each tier contained it's own row of smaller, individual gardens, all with their own unique surprises, that formed the half circle around the pond. The eight foot wall was covered with climbing roses. "They are all white, in honor of Bonnie Prince Charles, my aunt says." and he laughed. "I suppose she fancies herself a Jacobite or some such nonsense."

He turned us down the first path, made of a fine grass, like a putting green. There I found berries. "This must be the jam section" I said and smiled.

Jamie snorted at my little joke. "Ye and Ian must get along just fine," he commented.

Two large side by side sections were each covered with a specific berry... raspberries, blackcurrants, gooseberries and blueberries and strawberries. Jamie told me about the time he spent here when he was a young man. Lived with his Uncle and first wife, his Aunt Maura and four daughters, Molly, Tabitha, Margaret and Eleanor. "My own Da felt it 'twas important to ken my Ma's clan and family so I spent two summers here, during school breaks. Tabby was the first lass I ever kissed." He frowned and added, "My Uncle found out and put a quick stop to it. I don't ken I ever really forgave him for ending it so suddenly. She was a bonnie kisser," and he gave me his version of a wink, he blinked at me.

I laughed.

We cut back toward the main path as we walked down the second tier and found the path covered in small white stones. These gardens were the usual plantings of a traditional Scottish garden. There was Thistle, Gorse, Beautiful Purple Heather, Juniper, Scottish Bluebell and Flame, Cornflower and Chickory and Lily of the Valley. I found Lady's Bedstraw, Teasel, Foxglove, Wild Carrot and Sea Kale, Thrift and Sandal Seawort. As we walked the semi-circle I spied shrubs like Eared Willow to attract bees, purple Osier, Yew and Blackthorn. I told Jamie a bit about my nomadic life, living with my Uncle and some of the countries we had spent time in. "I was all of eight when I had my first kiss. The nine year old son of the Dragoman _(translator)_ , while we were living in Egypt. I wasn't very impressed. It tasted of smoke, because we had been smoking a stolen fag. Though for years I thought it was all rather exotic," and I sort of shrugged my shoulders.

"I am sorry te hear that Claire. I believe everyone's _chiad phòg_ (first kiss) should be special," Jamie commented as the corner of his mouth twitched, I assumed in an attempt to suppress a smile.

When we reached the end we turned down the third tier, this path was made of brick. To my surprise, the very cunning Lady of Beannachd, knew her medicinal herbs as well and had taken care to hid some in among the ordinary plantings in this row. There was Bearberry for urinary infections, Hart's Tongue for dysentery, burns and an early treatment for diabetes. I found Meadowsweet used for headaches, Mugwart, placed under the pillow for sweet dreams, Common Valerian to calm nerves, and Tormentil helped treat gum disease and mouth sores. I also found Wolfsbane, Foxglove and Hemlock and Nightshade. Interesting choices I thought, and wondered if she knew of their more evil uses.

The Major allowed me to roam freely in this row. He followed quietly along, not trying to keep up a conversation as I squealed and laughed and hopped from plant to plant. Sweet Gale for scenting candles. "Self-Heal" I yelped in surprise when I discovered it. Used for just about everything... helped heal wounds when blended with butter and stopped bleeding. Every new find, I looked up at him and smiled. I picked leaves and broke them, to smell their properties. I put them in my mouth and chewed to take in their taste. I sipped the nectar from the honeysuckle and ate the petals of off a marigold. I found cooking herbs mingled in with those for healing. Chamomile and chives, basil and mint, fennel, Horseradish, Sage, Thyme, Marigold, Parsley and Peppermint. Garlic, Tarragon, Oregano, Lemon Balm and Lavender. I simply could not thank the Major enough and I gave him a look that told him so.

I could swear I heard him release a sigh of contentment.

The last and finally row was devoted to vegetables. Tomatoes, several varieties of squash, carrots and cucumbers, leeks, onions, and potatoes. When I had seen enough, we walked the edge of the pond. It was a beautiful night and music from the party softly waft on the breeze and kept us company. We spoke sporadically, exchanging thoughts and ideas as we strolled in the dimming light. It had been a long time since a man cared enough to talk to me. Most of the men I met talked at me and only about themselves. "Jamie" he finally insisted I call him, asked about my work, my life, more about my travels and actually listened to the answers. We walked, side by side, to the far end of the pond and found a bench near the edge. We sat for a long while and spoke of our childhoods and how we had both lost our parents at an early age. I was sorry to hear about his loss of both an older and a younger brother. He was sorry I was an only child. He was also the perfect gentleman. He never once tried to hold my hand or kiss me. Though, truth be told, I wanted him to.

Jamie selected a different path back, to _The Main House,_ as Jamie referred to the manor. We across a path that led to the stables and Jamie couldn't resist showing me a newly acquired horse he had stabled here. It was a short walk through a small wooded area and on the other side was the large modern building. When we entered, Jamie walked to the wall and flipped the light switch and entered what I assumed was an office or the tack room. As I waited, I counted 8 stalls on each side. The place was spotlessly clean. Immaculate. My own apartment was dirtier and I cooked and ate in it. I turned to see a pair of dark eyes set in a beautiful dappled gray face watching me. The horse nickered and nodded it's head. I walked over with an extended hand and the horse's soft lips caressed my palm. Behind me a small brown head with a shaggy black mane appeared, whinnied and kicked at it's stall door. I scratched the dapple gray's nose and jaw as it lowered it's head and extended it's neck. I scratched behind the nearest ear and the horse twisted it's head in appreciation. I was working my way down the neck when I felt Jamie's hand slip under my shawl and found purchase, once again, on my bare back. There was that light tingle again as his fingers lightly caressed my vertebrae; such a sensual movement, I closed my eyes and quietly sighed. If he heard me, he showed me no indication as he offered the horse a carrot, holding it while the horse bite off half and chewed. Once finished, the dapple gray took the other half and turned back into it's stall.

"Is that Donas?" I finally regained enough composure to asked.

"No. 'Tis my uncle's mount. Donas is down there. The last stall on the right. Away from the others because he's a bad lad. He bites, ye see, does no' like the other horses and does'na really care to be ridden."

I laughed. "Then what possessed you to buy him?" I asked incredulously.

"Just wait. You'll understand when ye see him." Jamie responded as he guided me across the aisle to the pleasant brown faced horse and fed it a carrot as well. We passed each stall by walking back and forth across the aisle, offering each friendly face that greeted us a carrot and a scratch. All carrots were enthusiastically taken and consumed until we stood in front of the last friendly face, directly across the barn from Donas' stall. An Albino Mare, complete with red eyes and a pink nose. Donas' stall door remained vacant. No head came out to greet us. No friendly nicker of _hello._

As Jamie fed the beautiful white animal, "Taibhse _(ghost)_ my aunt's personal mount," I stepped across toward the empty, open half door. "This is were Donas is suppose to be?" I asked as I approached the vacant opening.

"Claire, wait.." I heard him utter.

I turned and smiled. I elected to completely disregarded the look of concern I received as I turned back and placed my hand on the edge of the door. "Are you sure he's in..." and suddenly there was a large black head with dark black eyes just inside the stall door. "Oh, there you are," I cooed. "You are a pretty boy, aren't you?" as his nose slowly extended over the door. He was beautiful. Black as night, with a long flowing mane and tail, which he dramatically swished for effect, and feathered lower legs. "Jamie, is Donas..." I turned to ask and stopped short when I saw the panic in his face.

"Claire. Come to me. Please..." His hands waving me to him as he stepped quickly toward me. Panic wasn't the right word, it was more like terror. His arms were outstretched, desperate to reach me.

Stupidly, I smiled and ignored his concern. "He's a Friesian, isn't he?" I said as I turned back to Donas. I found that I was looking at him from the side now. His head and neck were completely out of the stall, his chest up against the half door. As he leaned on it, the door creaked from the weight of him. I reached out my hand to scratch behind his ear as I whispered "Who's the handsomest horse in this stable? Yes, that's right, Donas is..."

I totally missed Jamie's instructions to run.

"Yes he is" and I scratched his cheek. The large black head turned and looked at me. "Yes, you are... just a handsome boy" He blinked, lowered his head to sniff me, then snorted. "Well I think you smell nice too," I told him as I scratched his velvet nose. I turned to look at Jamie. His face was as white as the mare he'd just left. "He's beautiful, Jamie. Where ever did you find him?" and I turned back to Donas. "Yes you are. Beautiful." I stroked his long, black neck, his coat smooth as silk. "I bet you make all the fillies crazy, don't you boy?" and I kissed the side of his face. "The only one I've ever seen was in France," I said as I glanced at Jamie. "The mare was white, not black. Donas is spectacular. Truly."

He was standing in the center of the aisle, just staring. A huge smile on his face. He walked over and handed me a carrot to feed Donas. "He did'na bit ye. He did'na even try," was all he said.

We lost track of the time as he told me all about Donas, and his love of horses and how he became the team's leader and being Scottish and Jenny and Ian and his nieces and nephews and Lallybroch. He shared his dream of ending life in the military and having a farm to breed and train horses. I shared mine, wanting to be a holistic healer and maybe to some day raise bees for their honey, which is quite medicinal. Twice I had thought he was going to kiss me, hoped he would, but, sadly, he did not. My heart was beating a crazy rhythm in my chest just by being near him. I wanted to lean into him and just smell him; take it the scent of him into my lungs. I really wanted him to gather me in his arms and kiss me, hard and long. I hadn't felt these crazy mixed up feeling for a guy in a very long time. I couldn't remember the last time I'd made love or even just had non-committal sex. He did not seem to have the same interest in me, however, so I kept myself in check. After all, I reminded myself, he was directly related to one of my patients; my own rules disallowed him as a boyfriend, date or better half. And that did not even recognize the claim that Laoghaire made. I wondered if she were even here.

Jamie cleared his throat. "Claire," he began as he tucked a loose curl behind my ear. "I'd really like... I want to... I wonder if..." and his phone rang. Murtagh. Alerting us that everyone was queuing for the buffet and Jamie's absence was noticed and beginning to be questioned.

I said good bye to Donas as Jamie took my hand and led me to a golf cart parked on the side of the barn. Back to the Main House and the stone patio. Jamie headed straight for the music room door when I stopped and let my hand slip from his grasp.

"You go on ahead." I said when he turned back to look for me. "I need to change my shoes and find the ladies loo. I need to clean up if I am to sit down to dinner with your family. You go on ahead. I'll be along. I'll ask someone for guidance if I cannot find the dining room."

"No." He replied simply. "I'm not letting you out of my sight." He walked to the edge of the porch and found my shoes, right where I had left them. He knelt down, set my heel on the stone and held it in place as I slipped my foot into it. I rested my fingers gently on his firm, muscled shoulder to keep myself from wobbling. My heart fluttered at the slight shock I felt as a finger grazed his neck. He made me feel like Cinderella. When he repeated the movement with the other shoe, I could hardly draw breath. He stood and I could not help myself... "Thank you" I whispered and kissed his cheek. "I can't remember when I've had such a lovely time."

He looked at me, once again, with that same confusion on his face he had worn on and off all evening, then asked, "Would it be alright if I kissed you, Claire?"

The way he whispered my name... the sound of his voice rolling the _"R"_ … my breath hitched as I nodded.

His lips were softer than any I'd ever known. He was gentle and tasted of good whisky. His hand slipped around my back and held me against him. My hand moved from his shoulder to softly trace the line of his jaw. Suddenly it was over, before it really began, and I found myself breathless and searched his face for why it had ended so suddenly. Was it not as good for him as it was for me? Did he not want it to be longer? For it to be more? I know I did.

His eyes searched my glass face. He smiled and kissed my nose in reply.

I giggled. Giggled like I was 16 and been kissed for the first time.

"I want to see you again, Claire."

I stopped breathing as I nodded in reply. "I want that too" I replied quietly as I searched his face for answers. Fuck that, I wanted to ditch the damn dinner and throw my rule about dating a patient's family member out the window. I wanted wake up in bed next to him tomorrow morning, naked and wanton.

He took my hand and opened the door. We entered the room with the grand piano and crossed it into the main hallway. Jamie quickly traversed the hall, pulling me along with him until we were directly under the master staircase. He turned right and we went down, passing people carrying trays of food going up. At the bottom, we ducked through the swinging doors and found ourselves in a very large, very busy kitchen. He pulled me to the left and we quickly walked down half the length of the room. He opened a door that revealed a small lavatory. He reached in and turned on the light. "You first. I'll wait right here for ye." He pushed me in and closed the door. I pee'd and washed my hands then splashed cold water on my face. So much for my makeup and perfume. I ran my fingers through my hair, pinched my cheeks and opened the door.

Jamie was a few yards away, standing in front of a stainless steel table. When I came up beside him, he picked up a piece of asparagus from a plate and fed the tip to me. I took a bite and moaned. "Perfection. Cheese and garlic, grilled perfectly," I said as I savored the flavors. His eyes were full of merriment as he popped the rest of the spear his mouth. I returned the taste by offering one of my own. I selected an endive leaf with goat cheese and chives, lightly salted and drizzled with olive oil.

I offered Jamie the first bite and he chewed experimentally. Smiling after he swallowed. "I've never had that before. 'Tis good."

He selected a Kalamata Olive, a piece of Feta Cheese and an marinated artichoke heart on a toothpick of sorts and placed the entire presentation in my mouth. When my lips closed around it he removed the toothpick and I uttered another soft moan as I chewed. "Devine" was the only word I managed.

Jamie picked a second one up and fed himself. "So good" was what he managed to utter.

"James Fraser! Yoo get away from that table and 'oot of ma kitchen, do ye hear me? I turned to see a small, round, rosy faced woman vigorously walking toward, from the other side of the table, waving a large wooden spoon.

"Mrs. FitzGibbons!" erupted from Jamie's mouth along with a smile. He picked up another olive, feta cheese and artichoke heart combination, popped it in his mouth, closed his lips around it and slid the little stick out. "Wait right here, Claire, I won't be but at minute." He quickly said to me. "Promise me you'll wait for me."

I nodded my head. "I promise" and he ducked into the loo. "Forever" I whispered as he closed the door.

The woman stood across the table looked me over from head to toe. "What do we have here?" she asked me.

"Hello" I said and held out my hand. "I'm Claire Beauchamp."

Mrs. FitzGibbons did not shake my hand. "I suppose yer a friend of Jamie's then." She stated, not smiling.

"Um, acquainted, yes, I suppose. I don't know if he would call us friends... yet." I said as a small smile crossed my lips.

She seemed to like that answer. "How de ye ken each other then? Work? Are ye one of the office secretary lasses then?"

"Well, no. Jamie and I don't work together. You see..."

And suddenly Jamie was back. "Good Night Mrs. Fitz," he said as he grabbed my hand and we left back out the kitchen and up the main staircase. Halfway down the hallway we passed through a set of open french doors and, just like that, we were in the dinning room. There was still a line at the buffet table set up against the wall, so we waited our turn, picked up plates and helped each other fill them. _Try this. Oh I love that. Have a roll. Do you like... ? This smells heavenly. Oh, Aunt Geillis had them make my favorite..._ We oooh'd and ahhh'd until our plates were full.

With our plates in hand, Jamie with two piled high, we found Murtagh, sitting in the last chair on one side of the table with only the one empty chair beside him. Murtagh got up and pulled a very ornately carved chair out and motioned me to sit. He pushed it back in after I was seated. I closed my eyes as Angus waggled his eyebrows and tongue at me from the chair on my other side. When I opened them, I watched as Jamie sat in a vacant chair directly across from me, in-between an elegantly dressed woman, with grey eyes and red hair and similar features to Jamie's, and Laoghaire MacKenzie. I watched carefully as she seemed very excited to see Jamie. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, right over the one I had left not 15 minutes ago and then placed a napkin in his lap for him. She helped herself to a piece of his stuffed celery and smiled at him as she ate it. I realized I was staring so I turned my gaze down the lengthy, elegantly set table. I recognized Rupert, or rather Sargent MacKenzie, on the other side of Laoghaire and then found I knew no one else except the Lieutenant-Colonel sitting at the head of the far end of the table. He raised an eyebrow when our eyes met.

"Hello Doc." I heard and turned to address Angus.

"Hello Corporal Mhor." I replied and began to be very interested in my plate of food though putting none of it in my mouth.

"'Tis a very bonnie dress ye have on this evening." He said oozing with sincerity.

I made the mistake of making eye contact with him.

"it looks verra easy to get out of. Is that why ye wore it?" He asked as he made his eyebrows dance again.

Suddenly his head pitched forward as Murtagh reached around behind me and slapped him upside the head. "Mind yer manners, Angus. Remember yer speak'n to a lady, aye?"

Without raising my head, I looked up through my lashes to see Jamie and Laoghaire whispering and gesturing in earnest. As they conferred, she brushed something from the shoulder of his jacket and buttered his dinner roll. She even drank from his glass of wine. Jamie was clearly uncomfortable with her attentions though never stopped her when she rested a hand on him or she helped herself to his food. To me, Jamie was clearly admitting there was some sort of understanding between them, almost like a commitment.

"Who's that sitting next to Jamie, Murtagh?" I whispered without taking my eyes off them. I needed to know if the blonde was really _who_ she said she was and _all_ she said she was.

"That would Jamie's Auntie Jo. Jocasta Cameron, that is. His mam's sister, younger sister. Born next after Dougal" and he gave the red headed woman watching us, a long, handsome sort of smile. He liked her. I could tell. I can't tell you what Jocasta Cameron was thinking as she watched in return. I know which side of the family Jamie got his poker face from.

"No. The blonde on his other side," I whispered a tad louder. "The one feeding Jamie like he was a child. Is that his Uncle Dougal's daughter, Tabby?" I hoped wistfully.

"Tabby?" Murtagh said with surprise. Jamie gave us a quick, puzzled look, then Laoghaire said something to draw his attentions back to her. "No lass. Tabby's married 10 years at least and has half a dozen bairn by now. She's probably around here somewhere..." and Murtagh started to look down the table for her.

I huffed with annoyance. "Murtagh" I whispered sharply. "Who is the blonde sitting next to Jamie?"

"Oh," Murtagh exclaimed. "That's Laoghaire MacKenzie. She's Mrs. FitzGibbon's granddaughter. Mrs. Fitz...

"Yes, yes" I whispered with irritation in my tone. "I know who Mrs. Fitz is. I met her downstairs in the kitchen just before we came to supper." I snorted with exasperation. "Is this Laoghaire... someone of _importance_ to Jamie? They seem to be very... close. Very friendly..."

Murtagh turned and looked at me. "They've ken each other since Jamie lived with his Uncle for several summers," he said. "When Jamie was a lad of fourteen and she barely school age" and he smiled. "She was at Ian's party that night at the pub, the night Ian was discharged from hospital. Did Jamie no' introduce ye?" He added as he moved his silverware around the table with his fingers. "Why do you ask, lass? Did the lad do somethi'n te worry ye?" His eyes lifted and watched my face carefully.

I could not hold my gaze with Murtagh. I dropped it and once again, played with my food. "No... no. I was just wondering. They just seem rather close, that's all and I did not know who she was. Never mind." and my heart fell to my stomach. I read between the lines. I had my answer.

Jamie did not bring her name up once in the three hours we talked. And I asked a great many questions about Lallybroch and the bairn. He never once mentioned Laoghaire or her daughters. A woman that Jenny described as family. I needed to ask one more question. I needed to know for certain. I knew in my heart I was clearly in love with this man. I needed to know, for certain, if he was in love with her.

I laid my fork down on my plate and looked directly at Jamie, my head held high. Jamie turned, looked at me and smiled... that beautiful half smile thing that he did that made my stomach flip-flop. "Murtagh," I said. "Does Laoghaire live at Lallybroch with her two daughters?" I watched as Jamie first registered that I knew who was sitting next to him and then that she lived on the family farm. I watched as his poker face failed him for a moment as his eyes shifted from me to Laoghaire then to his godfather.

I turned to look at Murtagh as he lifted his eyes from his plate to look directly at me. "Don't look at Major Fraser, Captain or I will _assume_ an answer. Look at me and reply. It's an easy one. Yes or No."

He didn't have to say yes or no. His eyes told me all I needed to know.

I would not return my gaze to the Major, though I knew he was willing me to do so. I refused to give him the satisfaction as I began to raise my walls, to protect my heart. _Trust and believe_ I chanted to myself. He could not have kissed me with such tenderness and feeling if he did not truly mean it. I unknowingly stroked my lips with my fingertips as I thought. He said he wanted to see me again. He would not have asked if there was an understanding between them... if he was in a relationship with this _Laoghaire_. Jamie was an honorable man, I reminded myself. He would not play me false.

Staring blindly at the items Jamie had helped me select only moments ago, the tastes I thought we would be sharing, my mind worked into overdrive to make sense of all this, to find a reasonable answer for the behavior I was watching. He had just kissed my knees out from under me minutes ago... made overtures to see me again... spent three hours sharing our truths. Trust him, every fiber of my being screamed. Trust and believe...

"Jamie, who is this you brought with ye to ma table?" the woman seated at the head of our end asked. I looked up, pulled from my unpleasant thoughts. The woman was not beautiful but her unique features made her stand out, so you took notice of her. Younger than I, with long strawberry-blond tresses held back by two small braids so you could clearly see her fetching green eyes. I could tell those eyes did not miss a thing going on at her table, either. She was a vision. Her dress was was nothing special - burnt orange, spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. It was the jewelry that made her breathless. She had an enormous drop sapphire, beautifully set, on a long chain around her neck that hung between her small breasts, with matching drop earrings. Against her pale skin and that orange dress, the blue was breath taking. A sapphire crusted tennis bracelet accented her small wrist and a stunning square cut sapphire ring rested majestically on the index finger of her right hand. Her left hand held the most ostentatious, marquise cut, single diamond I had ever seen on the finger of anyone I knew, with a diamond studded wedding band seated next to it. This woman clearly knew her gems.

Jamie set his fork down and cleared his throat. "Aunt Geillis, I'd like te introduce ye to Doctor Claire Beauchamp. She's a surgeon at Inverness Hospital. Ian's doctor." He stated simply. Without inflection. He turned to me, expressionless and said "Claire, this is my Aunt Geillis, my Uncle Dougal's _wife_. This is her home and party ye are attending."

"Ahhh..." Geillis said as she exhaled and her eyes darted to the other end of the table. "I'm verra pleased te meet ye, Claire," She said and offered me a friendly smile. "I am happy te finally meet ye in person. Ma husband had done noth'n but sing yer praises since ye repaired my niece's husband. A fine job I hear ye did now. We are all so verra grateful."

"Mrs. MacKenzie," I said, forcing a smile. "I'm honored to have been invited. This soiree of yours has quite the reputation," and I picked up my knife and fork to pretend to eat.

"All good, I trust," she said and took a sip from her wine glass.

I had just cut into a shrimp and was about to place it in my mouth, when I realized she had directed her comment to me. I rested my wrists on the table, looked my hostess directly in the eye and said, "I wouldn't know, I'm afraid. I never listen to gossip." and popped the morsel of shrimp in my mouth. I moaned. A little to loudly, I'm afraid. And closed my eyes as I savored the flavors that were set loose in my mouth. I opened them to see everyone within six seats had stopped eating and were looking at me. Except Jamie. "Excuse me." I said. I raised my hand to cover my mouth and was sure I turned beet red. I could feel the heat of embarrassment on my face. I turned to my hostess and said, "The shrimp is delicious. I've never had such a collection of flavors in my mouth at one time. It's... um... well, it's almost better than sex..." I whispered. I glanced quickly at Jamie as I selected another piece, to gauge his reaction to my comment.

There was absolutely no hint that he had even heard what I'd said. Busy pushing his food around on his plate, tasting none of his either. Laoghaire, however, had heard what I had said and laughed. She placed her hand on Jamie's arm and announced to all who would listen, "Perhaps yoo just have no met the right lad then. For I can tell yoo, sex, with the right partner, is amazing.

I had no air in my lungs. Checkmate. Match to Laoghaire MacKenzie. It was all I could do to remain seated. I wanted flee, to run away. Hide in a hole and never come out. The bastard.

Angus smothered a "hee haw" of laughter. "The lass is right, Doc. Perhaps ye just have no had the right partner. I maybe, could help ye out there," he volunteered.

Murtagh, however, snorted and patted my back after he thumped Angus upside the head again.

Geillis... she laughed. Out loud. Hooted and placed her hand on the arm of the woman beside her. "Claire, you are a treasure. You are welcome at my table anytime." And she smiled at me. "I understand you ken a little about herbs yourself. Tell me what ye taste..."

I took a deep breath, returned her smile and rose to the challenge. "The spices are definitely not local. I would say Cajun. American. New Orleans. Or... the Caribbean Jamaica. Chili, thyme, garlic, onion..." and I dabbed my finger in the sauce and placed it on my tongue. "Do I taste cinnamon?" I turned and looked at her.

"Aye. Ye have fine palette, Claire. Ma cook _is_ from Jamaica. I stole her when I was there on vacation. And she sat back in her chair and smiled. Her perfectly manicured fingernail clenched between her teeth. "Ye missed ye call'n. Ye should have been a cook. Ye have a knack for the flavors."

"No." I replied, shaking my head. "Cooking requires more than just taste buds. Trust me when I tell you, I can not cook. I am a disaster in the kitchen. I will dirty every pot, pan and plate yet produce nothing that is edible. I cannot even boil an egg."

Geillis laughed so hard she snorted and placed the back of her hand over her mouth. "Excuse me, please" she said to the guests close enough to have heard her. She looked at me with nothing short of merriment on her face and in her eyes. "I always thought doctors were so stuffy and full of themselves. Where have you been hiding?"

"I think she lives at hospital, Aunt," Jamie chimed in. "That's how Ian got so lucky. Claire was just there catching up on paperwork. Uncle Dougal said Claire here, fought hospital... to save the knee. The other surgeon wanted to amputate most of his leg."

Laoghaire watched as Jamie spoke, then smiled at me, said nothing and turned to Rupert on her right and jumped into the conversation he was having with others . She reached out and placed her hand, possessively, on his arm however. Jamie allowed it to rest for a beat or two. He then moved his arm under the guise of continuing to eat, and allowed it to slip off.

"Who ken ye were so witty, Claire?" Angus whispered quietly in my ear and patted my hand.

Dinner couldn't end fast enough for me. I felt my stomach churning, the acid building. I was going to be sick. I tried to distract myself by watching how carefully the red-headed woman, on the other side of Jamie, watched Murtagh like a hawk.

As dinner was winding down and dessert plates replaced our dinner ones, large platters of assorted sweets, puddings, pastries and cakes were placed throughout the table, allowing us to serve ourselves without leaving our seats. A waiter with a coffee pot and another with a tray laden with coffee cups and saucers, offered the hot, aromatic beverage to each guest. Another followed behind carrying cream and sugar.

I asked for a cup of tea, needing to settle my stomach for the long drive home as Murtagh placed a cookie on my plate. "'Tis a coconut cookie. Ma favorite," he said and gave me a shaky smile. He knew he and Jamie were not in my good graces, that I had caught them, maybe not in a lie, but certainly an un-truth.

"'Tis a macaroon," the woman across from us corrected him and smiled.

"Aye." He answered. "'Tis a cookie. 'Tis made with coconut. Thereby 'tis a coconut cookie. Don't let her have ye believe'n things are fancy, Claire, when they aren't." And he gave the woman a warm, lingering smile.

Suddenly there was a clanging noise. Of metal tapping crystal. Like at a wedding, Dougal was standing at the head of the table, water goblet in one hand, spoon in the other. It took several taps but all conversation came to an end. He cleared his throat. "I would like to thank ye all for com'n te Geillis' little dress up bash again this year. 'Tis good to have ye gathered at ma table. It's been a busy year. Hectic. Lots of travel for us. We are missing some team members..." and he paused for a moment... "and we have new team members to welcome." He raised his wine glass and all the men stood and raised their glasses as well. He uttered "Slànge" and the men repeated the cry in return and they all drank. He gave everyone a moment to settle, then he began again. "There will be some organizational changes come'n for the teams. I will be moving members around and making some adjustments, both to schedules and members. Change is necessary to keep the teams in balance and running at peak performance. Some new technology will be introduced, which will mean re-training or bringing on new members. I will speak to teams individually about that over the next couple of days." He took a swallow of his drink. "I want to take this opportunity to thank the families here as well. For without ye love and support, our teams could no do what is asked of us. So here's to the wives and loved ones we leave behind when we board those planes to travel." Everyone raised their glasses and drank. Except me. Dougal took a drink of water and said, "Jamie. Jamie lad, I need ye and Laoghaire. Will ye join me, please?" He smiled.

Laoghaire practically jumped out of her seat.

The woman seated on the other side of Jamie, placed an hand on his arm and shook her head _No._

Jamie looked at Murtagh and then shifted his eyes to me. Imploring me. Imploring me to do what? I silently looked back at him, madder than hell. His eyes remained on me as he stood and pushed his chair back. He mouthed _sorry,_ and turned to look at his uncle. From the side I could see the hostility in his eyes. He straighten his shoulders and never gave me another glance.

"Jamie!" Murtagh whispered from his chair. "Lad?" He stood and whispered gruffly, "Don't let ye Uncle force ye te do what yer heart says is wrong..." He pronounced as Jamie pushed his chair in. Murtagh turned his gaze to Jocasta. She made a grab for Jamie's hand but he reached for Laoghaire's instead. Together they walked to the Lieutenant-Colonel. They stood next to him, at the head of the table, and faced the rest of us. Laoghaire clung to Jaime like she was a conjoined twin. Wearing a smile as big as the world.

Suddenly, I really didn't feel well. I didn't want to be here. In this room. At this table. Here at this house. Not even in Scotland. I closed my eyes and listened...

"I know ye all ken that my older sister, Ellen, her boy Jamie here, has been like a son te me. He has been see'n our cook, Mrs. FitzGibbons', granddaughter Laoghaire." Dougal placed an arm around the young girl's shoulder. Yoo ken they have been date'n for over six months now. Weel, I'm here to announce that there's to be a wedding." Cheers from everyone at the table went up. Whoops and Hollers and Coarse remarks were made as Dougal dug into his sporran and produced a small box. He turned to Jamie and said, "Ellen was the oldest. Our mother's engagement ring would have gone to her. Since she has passed, the ring is rightfully yers. I thought, you might could give it to Laoghaire tonight as an..."

Laoghaire grabbed the box and opened it. She squealed in delight. She shoved the box at Jamie. He fumbled but managed to removed the ring and, with shaking hands, slipped it on her finger. She gave him a chaste kiss on the lips then held her hand up and wiggled her fingers to show everyone in the room the ring. Jamie stood behind her, his hands resting on her waist. Eyes focused on the large painting hanging on the wall behind his Aunt Geillis. A hunting scene. A large stag being attacked by half a dozen deerhounds, bringing it to it's knees. In the background, the hunters approach on horseback.

I set my napkin down and scooted my chair from the table. I noticed that both Jocasta and Murtagh were gone. Completely. Totally missing from the room. I turned to my hostess, "I need to find a lavatory... I think I'm going to be sick," I managed as my stomach made a most unpleasant noise and I heaved slightly.

Geillis looked at me, concern flashed in her eyes as she looked to her husband and back to me. "George," she said with a wave of her hand.

A man was immediately at her side. "Doctor Beauchamp needs the loo. Be so good as to help her..."

XXJAMMFXX

I almost didn't make it. 20 minutes later, I had cleaned myself up and found my way back to the main hallway. From there I was sure I could find the front door and the car valet. Suddenly my arm was grabbed from behind and I found myself face to face with Lieutenant Foster. A very drunk Lieutenant Foster.

"There you are. I have been looking everywhere for you. You promised me two dances." He grabbed my hand and dragged me into a rather large room. A DJ was playing at one end and the floor was packed with all sorts of people doing a whole lot of gyrating and jumping but nothing I would call dancing.

Dealing with the Lieutenant, was like fighting off an octopus. He was all arms. I would free myself from one limb only to find myself entangled with the other. I finally gave up. I was too numb to fight. "One, Lieutenant. One single dance. Only one. It is time for me to go. I have a long drive..." and suddenly I was being twirled around the dance floor. Who knew the Lieutenant could dance. Waltz, even. With amazing dexterity, he maneuvered us across the dance floor passing hopping and bouncing dancers as skillfully as Steve McQueen missed obstacles in the chase scene in _Bullet_. The music ended but my partner, as if listening to a beat inside his own head, kept us dancing. The DJ noticed and quickly played another tune. Three minutes more and the music ended and I stopped. "I have to go now Lieutenant. I really do." His face was sad as he released me and I walked away, right into the arms of Private William Coulter. Now, I have a soft spot in my heart for Willie. Of all of Ian's team members that came to see him, I always had a smile for him. He was the youngest but also had the kindest of hearts. I was surprised he had plucked up the courage to even ask me. I could not say no to him. He wasn't much of a dancer, he stepped on my toes as often as not but he was trying his best to make me smile. If I wasn't so upset, I might have thought it was fun. At the end of the dance I gave his cheek a quick peck. He blushed and placed his palm over the spot.

 _Sorry, no pictures Gail._

I started toward the ballroom door to leave out the way I came in, when my heart stopped. I watched as Jamie bowed to his dance partner, not Laoghaire, and began to scan the room. I quickly ducked out a side door before I thought he had seen me and I found myself back on the beautiful stone patio from earlier in the evening. I walked quickly to the end where I knew the steps to be, passing a woman, half hidden in the shadows. I would not have even noticed her if it weren't for the glowing ember of the fag she was puffing on.

"Leaving so soon, Claire?" Jocasta MacKenzie asked as she blew smoke from her lips. The hand holding the fag now gripped the edge of the wall she sat on.

A steady breeze blew the smoke away from me, thank gracious. "Yes. I have a long drive home and rounds early tomorrow morning. It was nice to meet you" and I continued walking.

"Liar." She threw out at me.

I stopped and turned to look at her. "Pardon me?" I stated and began to slowly walk back to her.

"Oh, how very English of you... _Pardon me_." She sort of sneered. "Don't you care for my nephew enough to fight for him?" And she put the fag to her lips and inhaled again.

Jesus she was a hard core smoker. There was no filter on the end of the cigarette. The old broad rolled her own. "I don't see how what I think or feel toward Major Fraser is any of your business." I said and started to walk away again.

She released the smoke and said, "Major Fraser is it now? How convenient." She folded her arms across her chest. "I ken my nephew and he is crazy about you. I watched him tonight. And you. I ken who ye were the moment I laid eyes on ye. Murtagh's talked enough about ye." She looked up at the stars and sighed. "My nephew could'na stop stare'n at you, all evening. You'd ken, if ye'd bothered to look at him. Hanging on your every word, he was. Never seen him like that with any of the others."

I stopped. Counted to ten. Nope, didn't help. I turned back and walked right up to her as she sucked air through the fag again. "You know what? I did. I lied. I am not pleased to have met you. To have met any of you." I spat out in anger. "Your git of a brother man-handled me tonight. I'll have bruises for a week thanks to him. Your shit of a niece has never once had a kind word for me, not that I expect to be thanked for doing my job... and your bloody ass of a nephew, kissed me tonight before dinner, like I've never been kissed before. Then his Uncle JUST announced his engagement to some child and _HE_ mouthed _sorry_ to me as he gave her his grandmother's ring. So _No_ , I am not glad. It was not nice to meet you. ANY of you. FRASERS or MACKENZIES. You can all go to hell" and I stomped off, or as close to stomping as I could in those stupid heels. I got all the way to the steps and stopped. I turned around and walked all the way back, halted directly in front of her.

"Forget an insult?" She asked as she inhaled smoky death from her fag.

"Except Murtagh." I declared and I wagged a finger at her. "He is a _treasure_ and _must_ be from a completely different clan. A nice one." And I turned to walk away. Then stopped again, turned and added. "Because your fucking clan sucks!" And this time I almost made it to the stairs when I heard.

"Nice te meet ye, Claire. I'll be see'n ye again, real soon."

I flipped her off as I almost fell down the flight of steps.

I found my way to the front drive, gave the valet my fob, and within 10 minutes, I was headed home. Got lost 3 times. Fucking Scottish Highlands.

XXJAMMFXX

Murtagh stepped out of the dark and approached Jocasta carrying two glasses of whisky. He handed her one. "I guess she told you," and sat down on the wall next to her.

"Yes, she certainly did. She's a spitfire for sure. Perfect for Jamie, in every way. But, you know," she paused to take a sip from her glass, "I'm in a bit of a quandary right now."

"Oh," Murtagh said as he raised an eye brow and sipped from his glass.

"I'm afraid I am no longer certain of her feelings. At the supper table I thought I knew for sure."

"Jo, do'na fret. Jamie will make this right. He will fix this mess yer no good bràthair has made."

She turned and smiled at him. "No. Well, yes, I have faith that Jamie can outsmart my idiot brother and make this right," and she placed a hand on his cheek and stroked his beard. "But that is not my cause for concern." She started to take another hit from the joint, when Murtagh gently removed it from her fingers, and took a pull from it first, then handed it back to her.

She gave him a hostile snort.

"Don't get so mad, Jo. It's just one hit. I'll roll ye another," and he smiled at her. "Now tell me what has ye so perplexed."

"First, ye best hope you don't get called in for a random drug test, my wee git. Second, I can'na decide if the woman is unknowingly in love with you, rather than my nephew." She turned to look at Murtagh, full in the face as she took a drink of whisky.

Murtagh raised both eyebrows in surprise. "I ken that I have a bit of a way with the ladies _,"_ he smiled a knowing smile at her, "and that I am a _treasure_... but Jo, ye ken there is no worry. She loves the lad, the anger she's exhibit'n is proof enough of that. As to me, weel, she doesn't stand a chance of winning my heart for it already belongs to another... as ye well know."

Jocasta Isobeail MacKenzie Cameron looked into Murtagh's eyes and whispered, "I know." She kissed him, gently on the lips. And when they parted, Murtagh took a sip of whisky and smiled.

"Jamie certainly loves her. Damn yer brother, Jo. Now, what are we going to do to fix this mess?"

"First thing _you_ need to do is go downstairs to that kitchen and have a word with that relation of yours."

"Glenna? Why?"

"Because that blonde _child_ is her granddaughter. Glenna must have some control over her. Do ye really think she is pregnant? And that our Jamie is the father? She took another hit from the joint, paused and released the smoke. "And I want my mother's engagement ring back. Bad enough that red-headed witch of a second wife my brother married has my mother's diamond. Which, by the way, I _will_ pry from her cold, dead hand one day..."

They sat reflectively for several minutes. Murtagh broke the silence. "Did ye remember te put yer drops in today, Jo? The Ophthalmologist said it would be important, to aid with the Glaucoma treatments."

"I ken Murtagh. I ken ye are worried for me too. The cannabis helps. I am grateful to Geillis for scoring me some, and you for rolling it into joints. What will I do without you?" She set her head against his shoulder.

"I will give Dougal ma resignation as soon as yoo are safely on the plane back to River Run. I will follow as quickly as I can, Jo. Ye have ma word. I'm done work'n with ye arse of a brother and all his shenanigans." He took her hand in his. His thumb softly caressed the back of her hand. And so they sat, amiably enough.

Until Jamie found them. Then an exchange of opinions began in earnest.


	7. Chptr 7: The Stag Party

Marriage Material – Chapter 7 The Stag Party

Claire POV

I gaze up through the wrought iron gate, peeking through the bars like an inmate wishing for freedom. It is a beautiful old church. Gothic. Brick with leaded windows. I am told the organ is amazing. Should I go in, I asked myself? It's early enough. I could sneak in and find a seat in the balcony or the back row. _He_ would never know. I look around Church Street. Everyone in Inverness seems to be out today. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. Perfect for a wedding.

 _Shit,_ I tell myself. _Keep running._ Instead of listening to that smart little voice inside my head, I stepped up through the gate and jogged the dozen brick steps up. I tread lightly on the path that led to the church, like it would prevent anyone from noticing me.

I walked to the end of the path, passed the entrance to the church, stopping almost in front of the turret and watched the guest arrive. The time 10:35 am.

XXJAMMFXX

I had settled on my couch with a large bowl of buttered popcorn and a mineral water, wearing my favorite yoga pants and an old U2 2014 Glasgow concert t-shirt of _his_ that he'd had left months ago that I'd never bothered to return. I cocooned myself in an old plaid of _his_ that he left the night I removed the bullet from his shoulder and set a large box of tissues on the coffee table in front of me. Fred crawled into my lap as I prepared to watch any number of chick flicks to help me get through this night. First up, one of my all time favorites, _Taming of the Shrew;_ the good one with Taylor and Burton. As wired as I was from today's A&E, I probably still hoped I wouldn't make it to the end. That I would just pass out on the couch.

When one of my favorite scenes came on... the one from the balcony, Katherina had just thrown the stool at her sister's suitors, Lucentio and Hortensio... there was a knock at my door. I had not ordered any take away so I decided to just ignore it.

A long pause then another much louder knock, more of a pound, like with a fist. I elected to ignore that one as well. The third was rather more like one long multiple pounding noise. Someone _was_ using their fist.

"Go away. No one's home." I yelled.

"Ha, ha, Lass," the tenor voice shouted from the other side of the door "I ken yer there, now let me in."

" _Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin_ Murtagh," I said. "Now, Go Away." I turned the volume up on the television.

There was cursing and fumbling about then a key turned the lock and the door opened. Shit, I had forgotten he knew where I hid my extra. Mental note to self... move key to new hiding spot.

And there was Murtagh, with a scowl across his face. "Are ya drunk?" He asked.

I raised the opened bottle of mineral water for him to see and said... "Stone Cold Sober. But the night is still young." I turned my head as he plopped his ass on the couch next to me. Fred looked up and blinked. "I know honey," I said as I scratched the top of her head. "The unpleasant furry man isn't staying. He has a party to go to."

"Have ye any beer?" He asked as he got up and walked to the kitchen. I heard the fridge open and glass clink, the utensil drawer opened and the sound of someone shuffled the drawer's occupants in search its contents. Murtagh must have found whatever he was looking for, for the next sound was that of the drawer slammed shut followed by the pop of a cap seal breaking. Two hear beats later he was seated back on the sofa, beer in hand, taking mouthful of popcorn.

"Sure, make yourself right at home. Help yourself to whatever you need." I turned and gave him a sarcastic smile as I threw him one of my crumpled paper napkins. "You know the bottle cap was a twist off, right?"

He narrowed his eyes for a split second. "Is that Jamie's shirt yer wear'n? The one he's been ask'n about for more than a month?" He responded and gave me that knowing half smile of his. "What are ye watching?" The part where Katherina and Petruchio are snarking it out in the barn is playing. Murtagh continued, "Taming of the Shrew? Really?" and his gaze shifted back to me.

"I like it. It's my flat. I choose." I said as I gave him an evil eye. "You don't like it, there's the door" and nodded my head toward it. "Don't let it hit you on the way out."

Petruchio gave Katherina such a look when she stormed away. I sighed. He was already smitten with her.

"To Jamie" Murtagh said as he raised his bottle and took a deep drink.

My body went ridged as I said nothing. I stared straight at the TV. I did not even blink.

"Why would ye not raise a glass te him?" Murtagh asked as he picked up the remote and turned the volume off. "Are ye no happy for him lass?" the evil little rat like man asked, knowing full well how I felt.

"Hey," I grumbled again. "I am watching that." Fred, not caring for my tone, hopped down off my lap and sauntered into the bedroom for some peace and quiet. "Traitor" I yelled after her.

"Yoo ken still watch it" he said. "I just turned the volume off so we could chat 'tis all" and sunk low in the cushions next to me, staring at the now soundless picture on the TV.

I turned to look at him. Without a doubt, I knew why he was here. Why he had come by my flat. I did not need to ask. Plain and simple, he came to talk me into going to the Stag Party with him. Why else? His tanned face, from being outside his whole life, was clean. Who knew Murtagh had freckles? His beard and mustache neatly trimmed. I noticed the wrinkles around his eyes and the grey hairs flecked through the dark brown hair that was neatly tied back in a queue. He wore a new button down, plaid shirt, a tie and jacket. And pants, my eyes opened a little wider in surprise. I could not remember the last time I had seen him in trousers. Shoes polished until they gleamed. He was certainly dressed like he was going. I sniffed. He'd pulled out all the stops for Jamie, had taken a bath, used soap and he was wearing cologne, as the subtle scent of _Fierce_ reached my nose. "Gee Murtagh, you look and smell nice. Hoping for some action then, are you?"

"I was hope'n ye'd changed yer mind and come with me lass." He stated, staring at the TV, his hands played with the end of his tie and he said what he'd come here to say, "Claire, if you don't tell Jamie just how ye feel and he marries the lass…"

"The Black Widow" I interrupt. This would be the third marriage for Ms. Laoghaire MacKenzie MacKimmie. I was of the belief she had killed the first two off. Both were military men. One died in a conflict overseas. The other died in a hostage situation, leaving her with two young girls. Both of her doings, I was convinced. Jamie better watch his back, or he would be dead husband number three.

"Aye, that then." He agreed, to placate me and continued, "You need to tell him. Ye owe him that…."

"I don't owe him shit, Murtagh." I got my ass up off the sofa and stomped to the kitchen. I set the bowl of popcorn down next to the sink. Suddenly I didn't want it anymore. I needed something besides water for this conversation, but I could not have alcohol. I was on call for the hospital. Plus, I refused to get drunk over _him_. "Remember, _he_ said there was room for secrets but not for lies. _He_ said he wasn't in love with HER" I yelled. "Not a secret, a blatant lie. He is marrying her, isn't he?" I poured a tall seltzer and pomegranate juice, heavy on the ice. Maybe sugar could be a substitute for the alcohol. I broke out the _Toblerone_ and set it on the counter, unopened.

"Aye, Claire, maybe ye don't owe it to him then but ye do owe it to yourself." He said to me as he followed me into the kitchen. "Try, Lass. One last, all out, 100% effort, at making the rock heid'd grommel understand just how ye feel about him."

"Murtagh, I love you, you know that," I stated as I sat on a kitchen chair. "Remember this table, Murtagh?" I asked as I rubbed my hand across the smooth, newly painted wood. I had found it at the local Charity Shop and you and Jamie came and helped me drag back and up the three flights of stairs to this flat. Remember?"

"Aye, lass. I remember" he said with a sigh.

"You know you are more than just a friend to me, Murtagh. I know I had Uncle Lamb, but what you and I have is not the same. Lamb was always working. Work was his life, I was just a extension of that. A responsibility to his brother. But you? I know Jamie is the reason you get up every morning. You are so proud of him. Every time you look at him there is so much pride on your face. You have helped raise him into this amazingly smart, strong, caring human being. You were there for him when his parents died and have been there ever since, for every milestone, every achievement, every promotion." I broke eye contact with him and played with my hands. "You know you make me feel the same way. Like I'm the daughter you never had. You care, you listen, you love me, almost unconditionally" I said and smiled. "Don't try to pretend that you don't. You would not be here now if you didn't."

Murtagh turned red. I think it's the only time I have ever seen the man blush. His foot kicked the leg of my table gently and he made a _harrumph_ noise in the back of his throat. He came to me and placed a calloused hand on my cheek. "Aye Lass, I do at that." He placed a soft kiss on my forehead, then moved to lean against the counter, arms folded across his chest. Preparing to do battle.

"I will always be grateful for having you in my life." I continued having turned a little red myself but looked him straight in the eye. "But he lied to me, Murtagh. Jamie does not feel the same way about me as I do about him. Plain and Simple." My look begged Murtagh to understand and listen to me. "You know that in your heart," and I placed my hand gently above my heart. "Just because we, you and I, both want something, does not mean it should happen nor that it will happen. He loves _HER_. He chose _HER_. He is marrying _HER_. Nothing we can do is going to change that, Murtagh."

Murtagh made a grimaced face and _harrumphed_ again.

"He only had eyes for her at the procession, you know that. You saw that" I reminded him.

 _It was a gorgeous day. One of the few rainless afternoons I can remember since I had moved to Scotland. Only a few puffy white clouds in the sky. Graduation from Officer's Training is a pretty big deal and they put on one hell of a show for the people that attend. All the big wigs were present, families, friends and loved ones. At the end of the exhibitions, Jamie had ridden Donas up to the stands and asked Laoghaire to come down and ride away with them. So romantic. Right out of a fairy tale. He was resplendent, dressed in full uniform, kilt and sword and dirk included. The earth tones of the tartan, against the auburn of his hair, mounted on this beautiful, midnight black beast that did not walk, but pranced. His majestic head, flowing mane and swishing tail. And those lovely, feathered legs dancing as he moved; it was like watching a Lipizzan performing dressage. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, it took my breath away to see Jamie and Donas together as one. Every woman, married or not, in those stands wanted to run down there, climb on that horse and ride away with him, myself included, and his own fiance declined the offer; the stuff of dreams and the idiot SHE is, SHE doesn't go._

"You know Jenny, she just sat back and laughed at me while I sat there in the stands and mooned over her brother when he did that" I said shooting daggers at Murtagh.

" _Ye'll never have him" Jenny said and smirked. "He'll never be yours. He'll marry her because she's a Scot and because I am happy with the choice. If he does'na marry soon, he won't ever have a family and he is meant to be a father. There will be no Sassenach blood in this Fraser Family Line. The Laird Broch Tuarach will have pure Scots for bairn" and she firmly nodded her head in satisfaction._

"I can't make this stuff up, Murtagh. That's what she said to me." I looked away from his face and down at my hands folded on the table. "I guess she'll be right as of this Saturday."

"Now Claire, you ken you ended up in the saddle with him. He brought you back to the stables with him" Murtagh reminded me.

"Oh yeah. That was really special." I said thick with sarcasm.

 _SHE turned him down cold. Embarrassed Jamie in front of everyone. Ok, maybe Donas had something to do with it. When she walked down to get on, Donas wouldn't let her anywhere near Jamie; tried to bite her every time she came within reach. God I love that horse. The audience laughed. Jamie was mortified. He tried to get Donas under control, to stop him, but couldn't. I actually thought I could help. That's why I went down. To keep Donas occupied while Jamie got Laoghaire situated. I figured she'd get on the bloody horse if I went down to help. Donas nuzzled me but the minute she put her hand in Jamie's, Donas turned and bit her then went right back to nuzzling me. Laoghaire stormed away from the stands and the field. Screamed and left. A large, wet, bite mark on her ass, plain as day._

 _So who ended up saving who? Jamie, being Jamie, one of the reasons I truly loved the man, rescued me, instead of my rescuing him. He smiled that amazing smile of his, and held his hand out to me. Oh God, I know I am 900 shades of red. I just want to crawl under a rock and die. But I can not say "No" to him, not now. He can not be turned down by his fiance and a friend both. I could not do that to him._

 _So I held my head up, as Donas nibbled on my jacket sleeve, and ask, "Do you want to take me in the Front or in the Back?"_

 _Jamie, being Jamie, threw his head back and laughed. Loudly._

 _Suddenly, as laughter ensued, I realized what I had said. Oh God, how many people heard that? I turned another 300 shades of red, lower my head and started to back away._

 _Donas gripped my jacket in his teeth._

" _Sassenach." Jamie said in that voice that sounds like smooth, aged whisky and held out his hand to me. "Come. Come to me."_

 _I stepped forward, whispered "thank you" as his hand guided my ass into the space between his thighs. And if that touch wasn't enough, he wrapped his arm firmly around my waist and pulled me tightly against him. He patted Donas' neck, "tha deagh ghille ann (there's a good lad), turned him and we rode away... away from Jenny, away from the stands, away from the stables, away from everyone and everything. We couldn't go far enough for me._

"I know he explained everything Murtagh. How he thought he loved her but realized he didn't. Said he couldn't, not after meeting me..." I took a long, deep breath and wiped away my tears. "But that was two months ago and look where we are. In the same place with Jamie still engaged to Laoghaire. Getting married in two days, no less. So, Thank you but no, I do not think I'll be going to his Stag Party. Have fun and good bye."

"Claire, did ye no think that Jenny may not ken Jamie's heart. He does'na tell her everything. No lad tells his sister everything." Murtagh sighed. "What she wants for Jamie, may no be what Jamie wants or needs. Maybe yer getting up on that horse was just what he wanted all along. Did ye no think of that?"

"You don't think I've played that whole thing over in my head a hundred different ways, Murtagh? There was no way Jamie could have known, let alone gotten Donas to do what he did... so that always leads back to Jamie salvaging a bad situation. That's all there was to it. Let this go, please, for my sake. While I still have some of my pride intact." I pleaded with him. Set my hands in prayer for him to see.

Then the bastard said the one thing that he knew would make me get up off my ass, get dressed and go. He said, "Jamie asked for me to bring ya, Lass. He wants ya there." and then the Bloody Bastard smiled. I rescind my original comment; I did not love Murtagh, I hated him, with every fiber of my being.

"Shit, Murtagh," I said as my defenses crumbled to the floor. "It's a Fucking Stag Party. The whole bloody team will be there. I will be the only woman there in clothes, you know that, right?"

Murtagh just smiled and nodded his head. "It will make Jamie notice ya for sure, then. He's always noticed ye because yer not like the rest of the lasses he kens. We need to use that to our advantage." He knew he'd won. I was going to go.

"This is going to be an unmitigated disaster, mark my word, Fraser. I said sadly, shaking my head. I hope you have a fire extinguisher on you. Because we, my fine friend, are going down in flames" and I gently pulled his beard.

Murtagh selected my dress and shoes. The dress bought _Once Upon a Time Ago,_ in the hopes that Jamie would ask me out over Christmas/New Year's holiday in another two months. Now it will never happen because he will be a married man. Might as well wear it tonight. At least Jamie will see me in it.

The dress was a Michael Kors that I purchased when I was shopping for the Soiree with Gail. It was Christmas red with a jacquard floral print. About three inches above the knee, Straight skirt, fitted top, with darts that started and the waist and ended just under each breast, accentuating them. I needed all the help I could get. The neck was slightly scooped and allowed you to see a hint of the clavicles. Just a hint, no more. Capped sleeves. From the front it appeared to be a nice, conservatively cut dress. The back had all the action. There was almost no back to this dress. It made a plunging **V** from the top of the shoulders that ended at the waist with a large bow and a 3" slit in the skirt so one could actually walk. I had four inch smoke'n black Jimmy Choo stilettos with peek a boo toes and matching black clutch purse.

Murtagh approved my make-up, minimal – 0nly mascara, flaming red lipstick, and hair, down and uncontrolled, just the way Jamie liked it. A cup of coffee later and dressed to the 9's, I kissed Fred goodnight. We were out the door, in a pumpkin carriage called Uber and on our way. Even I knew I looked hot.

We arrived at Jamie's favorite local bar. Of course that's where this would be. Where the staff knew me, because I had been here several times to meet the team for drinks, and they all knew Jamie's team. Even some of the bartenders called me by name. Great. I was going to embarrass myself in front of everyone. I accepted the fact that, before this night was through, I would never be able to frequent this bar again. Ever.

"You know, I could have worn jeans and a t-shirt and at least be comfortable" I growled at Murtagh. "If I am going to be totally miserable on the inside, I could have at least been dressed agreeably on the outside."

There was a group of guys exiting the bar just as we pulled up. Three out of four gave me an appreciative look as I walked by, one even threw a whistle my way. The fourth held the door open for me. "If you'd like to loose your grandfather, I'd be happy to buy you a drink." he tossed at me and gave me a toothy smile. That gave my courage a slight boost, enough to get me through the door.

"Claire? Claire is that really you? Sean called out from behind the bar. "You clean up pretty good lass. Why are you so dolled up..." and suddenly he stopped talking and glanced toward the back of the bar. He knew why. He looked back at me and gave me a nervous man's attempt at a smile then broke eye contact as he turned to hand someone the beer he'd just poured. He never looked back. At least I knew where to find Jamie.

I stopped, looked desperately at Murtagh and tried to pull my arm free. "Please, Murtagh" I pleaded, "even Sean knows this is a really bad idea." Jamie hadn't seen me yet. I could still leave with my pride in tact. Instantly I felt a hand on my back. Not Jamie's, I could always tell when it was Jamie's touch; there was always that little electrical charge that ran through my body. I stiffened. Then, just as suddenly, there was Ian standing in front of me, smiling.

"Claire," He simply stated, "You look beautiful. "For Jamie?" he quietly inquired. "You gonna to finally tell him?"

If looks could kill, I'd have killed Murtagh right then and there. He would have been dead before he hit the floor "You know?"

Ian nodded. "We all do."

"We?" I hoped against all hope.

"The team, the hospital, the bar, the entire world just about." Ian spoke softly as he gave me one of those smiles that had endeared him to me when he was my patient. "Anyone that has ever seen the two of ye together. 'Tis the way ye look at him. Ye have a glass face, Claire. If Jamie weren't such a clot-heid, he'd know it too," he said as he rubbed my arm.

"Please Ian, explain to Murtagh here why this is an imbecilic idea and let me leave before I totally humiliate myself in front of everyone I care about." I closed my pleading eyes and prayed.

He chucked my chin and made me open them again. He looked at me with a understanding softness and smiled, his wonderful, _I love my wife_ kind of shit silly grin that husbands sometimes get when they watched their wife sooth their injured child. "Claire, you are one of the most amazing lasses I have ever had the good fortune to call _a charaid_. You look bonnie tonight and _mo bràtherair_ is a fool for not seeing you for the true treasure that ye are. Come sit with me. I'll buy ye a glass of the good stuff for being so braw and come'n all this way. Ye have the heart of a lion. Come, let us share a drink and _innis dhomh do chridhe_ ( _tell me ye heart)._ Then I'll drive ye home myself, for I'll be want'n to leave the clot-heid's party myself for not pick'n ye for my sister-in-law.

"We'll just go find us a booth then, aye Ian?" Murtagh said as Ian made his way to the bar to fetch the drinks. "I'll have whatever she's hav'n since ye buy'n," Murtagh added.

Ian laughed, gave Murtagh the finger and kept walking.

I smiled as I watched Ian walk away, I realized just how far he had come since that accident. He was walking on his new prosthetic, without the aid of a cane or crutches. He had come a long way in the very span of three months. I smiled. He was truly the braw one. I was a cowardly lion.

Murtagh, afraid that I might bolt, held my hand as we moved forward, in search of an available table. Further into the bar; deeper into the belly of monster. As we walked, I scanned the room. _The Pig and Whistle_ wasn't terribly large as bars go and yet I saw no sign of Jamie; the 6' 3" red-headed Scot was almost impossible to miss, even in a crowd. He must be here somewhere, doing God knew what. I reminded myself that it was a Stag Party. The further toward the back, the louder the chants of "More, More, More" became. Murtagh continued to steer us in that general direction. When we finally entered the back room, it became clear what all the commotion was about. I found myself standing still as a statue, as I watched a very drunk Jamie attempt to kiss a young woman wedged tightly between his thighs. His large hands had a firm grasp on the female's ass, barely covered in what must be the shortest skirt on record. When he gave up trying to kiss her and tried his damnedest to place money in places I'd dreamed of him touching me, I realized the team had chipped in and gotten him a lap dance. After he managed to place the note in her partially exposed bra, he grabbed her ass and pulled her scantily clad body toward him, so quickly that she fell forward, both extremely large breasts slapped him in the face. He buried his face in them while she grabbed the back of his chair to keep herself from completely falling forward. I whimpered. Loudly apparently, because Murtagh suddenly turned and looked at me. Damn, I'd have practically paid Jamie to do any one of those things to me.

"Doc" someone shouted. Several of the team members turned and noticed me for the first time. Led by Rupert and Angus, they begin to make cat calls and lewd hand gestures in their nether regions at me.

"Very Funny Guys. Regular Comedians" I shouted and nodded my head. I knew a few of these guys were married and some had steady girlfriends. But it is Team First so I bit my tongue and did not reprimand any of them. They needed a night to blow off steam with the kind of work they did. They couldn't take it home. Every mission they laid their lives on the line. Sure I was Doc, but I was also the girl they left behind. I saw it in their eyes, my being there reminded some of them of that. I did not think that was fair. I should not be here. I knew I had to leave. I tried to leave, once again. This time I almost completely turned around before Murtagh grabbed me with his free hand.

"One drink. Ye promised Ian." Murtagh reminded me and I was prevented from leaving, yet again, but my back was to the party, The Team has their privacy back and I could no longer see Jamie. My position had improved, or so I thought.

"Can we get a table in the front of the bar at least, Murtagh. I need to give the guys some down time, without eyes..." and I gave him a stern look.

Rupert shouted from across the bar, "Hey Jamie, the Doc's here. All dressed up with a pretty bow on her arse for yoo." He laughed at himself then shouted, "If Jamie is 'na interested in swiveling ye Doc, come over here and let's see what I can do for ye." Rupert reinforced the suggestion by gyrating his pelvis at me lewdly.

I knew enough to just flip him off. I didn't need to turn around to know what he had done behind my back. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Murtagh," I snarled. "Just let me the fuck go already."

Rupert, at the site of my gesture, roared with laughter. Glad someone was having fun.

Murtagh shouted, "Jamie, ya wee idiot. Claire's here, just like ye asked. Aren't ya gonna come say _Hello_?"

Why I turned around, I'll never know.

Jamie stopped placing money in the infinitesimally small bra of the woman between his legs and looked up. "Doc's here? Where?" and he started to scan the room. His eyes passed right by me as he did. Never even saw me. The lap dancer, gyrated and swiveled and pushed Jamie's head back into her breasts. He laughed and went back to whatever he was doing. I really didn't want to learn what. I was fast approaching the I _Don't Shit Stage_ about our non-existent relationship, anyway. He was beyond drunk and I needed to leave.

"I'm done." I said to Murtagh as I got up and headed for the door.

Murtagh, realized I was serious about leaving, shouted "Jamie, man!" and grabbed my arm in one last attempt to keep me there.

It was very apparent to me just how inebriated Jamie was. I would never see him again after tonight. I didn't want my last images of him to be like this. I felt so stupid, so gullible. It had been a really bad idea to come. I had known it would be, yet I let myself be talked into this because I wanted Jamie that badly. Shame on me. "Let go of me." I snarled as I turned and gave Murtagh _The Look – t_ _he, I'm going to make you bleed if you don't let go of me now, look._

Murtagh, shocked, loosened his grip. I jerked free, spun on my heels and almost broke my neck when I lost my balance in the turn. I turned right into Ian returning with the drinks. I had to catch myself using the shoulder of the guy sitting behind Murtagh.

"I love you, Ian. I truly do. I really wish you were going to be my brother-in-law, but you aren't, so sadly, this is goodbye" and I kissed his cheek. I had not even stayed long enough to take a sip of my scotch. "Give it to Jamie. Tell him I offered him one last drink as a good-bye" and off I wobbled toward the door as fast as I could without breaking my neck.

Murtagh, god bless him, tried one last time, exclaiming loudly, "Jamie, I brought Claire like ye asked, and now she is leaving, ye clot-heid. Do ye no have no'thing ye want to say to the lass? This is yer last chance, ye ken."

I almost made it. Two step more and I'd have been out the door, when I heard Jamie bellow, "Sassenach, where are yoooo?" I stopped, like the love crazed idiot that I was. Like Ulysses when the Sirens called, I turned. Where was wax for my ears when I needed it? And like any good soldier being led to stand before a firing squad, I stood tall, straightened my shoulders, looked straight ahead and walked back to him.

Murtagh, downed the shot he was holding in one swallow. He took the one from Ian's hand and swallowed that one too as they watched me walk by. Eyes tracking me the entire death march.

"Mo Neighan Donn, don't go, pleeeaaassseee," Jamie pleaded in a voice that sounded as if his soul was being ripped from him.

I stopped. _My brown haired lass_ , was that what he just said? I'd heard the phrase before, but it's the _please_ that ripped my heart from my chest. My breath caught like a lump in my throat. I couldn't swallow. I couldn't breathe. My heart was pounding in my chest, painfully. I knew I shouldn't go to him but I couldn't stop myself. I looked up and there he was, making his way toward me, with a ground eating gate and that goofy, half smile thing he did with his lips, that made me love him the way that I did. My heart had become an Olympic Gymnast in my chest; I felt every flip, spin and jump it made as he closed the distance between us. He stopped right in front of me, then reached and tucked a curl behind my ear. I closed my eyes as his fingers skimmed my cheek. I lifted my chin and readied myself for his kiss. The next thing I knew, he grabbed me, with both of his lovely, large, strong hands on my ass and lifted me up from the floor and into his chest.

My eyes flew open. That was not what I expected. At all.

"Oh my, Jamie." And I giggled. Why did this man unrest me so that I reduced myself to a love sick teen, and giggled? I rested my forearms on his very broad shoulders and started to run my fingers though his hair. I am sure my glass face told him exactly how I felt. What I'd forgotten was that he was too drunk to care, let alone be able to read it.

He started to knead my ass with his fingers like it was bread dough. I sighed, looked into his gorgeous blue eyes and started to lower my lips to his. There was absolutely no one else in the bar right now. Just me and…"

"Doc, I am soooo verrrra glad ye came. My heart is full of joy for it." His breath was rank and blasted me straight in the face. All forms of alcohol assaulted my senses. A mind sobering experience that an entire roll of breath mints would not even have begun to help correct. He then decided to let go of me and I dropped to the floor like a deployed bomb. "Gee, ye sure look lovely," he slurred as he patted me on the head like a good dog. He then turned and walked away, screaming "Frank, paging Frank Randall. Where are ye man?"

I almost fell on my ass when he dropped me. I am not good with heels walking, certainly not when I am dropped more than two feet. Luckily, I am a cat that landed on her feet though I reached out and grabbed the nearest shoulder to keep myself from falling to my knees. I bent over to adjust the shoe that almost fell off as the shoulder turned around. This fairly handsome guy attached to it, looked down at me and smiled. Then he did this thing with his tongue and his lips. I guess it was a signal he liked what he saw…though I am unclear. It's true meaning was open to interpretation.

I put my foot down, stood up straight and started to back away. Every step back I took, he took one forward. We did this three step tango kind of thing, then I stopped, extended my hand, palm facing him and said, "Ok, I'm sorry. I am with the Groom," and took my purse and swung it behind me in a directional gesture toward Jamie.

"Sassenach, what are ya do'n? Flirt'n? Stop that, aye?" Jamie was back and grabbed my extended arm by the wrist. Firmly. Possessively. He growled, "Hey, she's spoken for," to shoulder guy and poked him in the chest with his index finger. He pulled me with him as he strode toward the back of the bar. Jamie used his normal stride, while I did a run/shuffle kind of gait to keep up with him, in a very tight dress and heels. If Ginger Rogers could do it in heels and backwards, I could certainly manage forwards. We were headed to the back of the bar. Alone time with Jamie, perhaps, as my thoughts went wild with ideas, as he dragged me along. I smiled even as I tripped and stumbled and fast stepped my way in an effort to keep up with him. It was all good. I was fine. I was beyond fine. I was euphoric as my mind created possible scenarios and played them out in my head, all of which ended with us happily ensconced in a bed. Oh, Murtagh, dear, sweet Murtagh had been so right. Jamie loved me. My head was in the clouds. This was finally going to happen. I was being led away, to a back room, where we would declare our love for each other and he would call off the wedding with Laoghaire... and there would be a heart shaped bed, champagne and doves and...chocolate and... and suddenly we had arrived. And Jamie stopped. And where, instead of being alone, I found that the room he had brought me to have what I considered to be a life changing conversation and consensual petting at the very least, was crowded. Filled with a great many more men, all playing darts and billiards and drinking and having very loud conversations.

So, not alone time then... the champagne disappeared along with the doves and chocolates and heart shaped bed with a mirror on the ceiling. Crash.

"Frank. Frank Randall." Jamie practically shouted as he looked around the room.

"Who are you looking for Jamie?" I stupidly asked.

"Frank." He answered looking at me with a very drunken smile on his face. Suddenly he waved his free hand while he held onto my wrist with the other.

He was inebriated. He had no earthly idea what he was doing. _You're an idiot_ , I told myself. I tried to step back, away from him, all the while twisting my wrist, to gain my freedom.

Still scanning the room, his grip tightened as he felt me attempt to free myself.

"Owww. You're hurting me, Jamie" I told him. "Let go of me." I tried to sound commanding as I attempted to extricate myself.

Jamie looked at me. His face soft and loving and happy as his eyes scanned me from the top of my head to the tips of my shoes. Pausing, I swear almost longingly, at several points along the way.

This was wrong. Something felt really wrong. Like at the Soiree, it did not feel right. I didn't want to be here anymore. "Let go of me, Jamie. Please. You. Are. Hurting. Me." I spoke firmly as I tried to pry his fingers open. I looked over my shoulder, trying to find Murtagh or Ian. "Murtagh" I called out. "Ian. Help!"

"Nice dress, Sassenach. I'd forgotten how well yoo clean up. Verra bonnie. And legs, verra nice legs, lass. Have I ever seen them?" he asked with what I wanted to think was a bit of a growl. "Frank Randall!" He called out again. He returned his focus on me and grabbed the skirt of the dress and pulled it up, almost exposing my very small, very lacy, black knickers. I had purchased and worn them just for him and he was never going to see them if he kept this behavior up. I slapped his hand, hard and pulled the dress back down. All he had managed to do thus far was piss me off. Who the bloody hell was this Frank he was screaming for? This was not going the way Murtagh said it would. The way I hoped. The way I had expected. Not one little bit.

"Oww" Jamie said surprised and let go of the dress. He straightened and stood to his full 6' 3" height and glared at me. "What'cha do that for?" He was imposing. And just as quickly, he was all smiles again. "Yoo play'n?" He asked with a impish smile.

I heard a strange "Hi" and turned to face a very clean cut gentleman dressed in what I assumed was a very expensive, all-be-it boring, brown, suit, minus the jacket. I was quite sure it had an equally nice a hat and a leather briefcase that went with it, somewhere around here. He had on a starched, white, oxford shirt and a matching, equally boring, brown tie.

"Oh God" I whispered out loud and tried hide behind Jamie.

Jamie, in response put his hand on my back and pushed me forward, toward _Frank._

 _Frank_ looked at Jamie, then to me. He looked me in the face and smiled a very pleased, very happy, very drunk smile. This _Frank_ was not at all sober either, though not nearly as shit faced as dear, soon to be dead, Jamie. _Frank_ was about my height, maybe a little taller and stood steady on his feet, not swaying like the idiot that just practically pushed me into the arms of a complete stranger. _Frank_ was of slender build and did not appear to be athletically inclined, unless maybe it was a weekend match of tennis or cricket. His hazel eyes, looked pleasant enough as he took in my facial features. His dark brown hair was cut short, his face without whiskers or side burns. An academic of some kind. A Uni professor most likely, I'd have guessed.

Frank said "Hi."

"Hi," I responded back and looked quickly around for Murtagh. I knew he could not be far. "Murtagh" I squeaked. No sign of him. "Ian" I attempted in desperation.

I turned back to find "Frank" quite obviously, giving me the once over. I could tell he was a leg man because he slowly took in my legs and a breast man for he paused there as well. Finally, he's eyes were back, resting on my face. He clearly did not approve of my very red lipstick, his nose scrunched when he looked at my lips and really did not like my hair. His face actually twitched when his eyes moved around it, taking it's chaos in.

"Murtagh!" I yelled out. "Ian? Please..." I begged.

Slowly this Frank allowed his eyes to wandered back down from my face, paused briefly at my breasts where he licked his lips then bit his lower lip – all things I had hoped for... that I had pictured Jamie doing, not this stranger. He continued down until he reached my shoes. He returned to my face for the third time and smiled again. "This is her, Jamie?" Frank spoke. "Wow, you really understated the package. She is really quite lovely."

Like I wasn't even here. _Murtagh Fraser was a dead man_ was the only thought I had in my head. I would kill him for this. I was no longer a little confused about this _Frank thing;_ my head was coming out of the fog… I reached up and smoothed my hair from my face. I had a knot in the pit of my stomach. My gut churned. I knew exactly what Jamie was about to say and closed my eyes tightly as he began to speak…

"Dr. Frank Randall, I'd like to introduce you to my co-worker, Dr. Claire Beauchamp."

 _Co-worker_. That was the word he used, selected, chose... was all that played in my head. Over and over again.

Not missing a beat, Jamie continued... "Claire, this is Dr. Frank Randall. He's an historian with the University in Glasgow." When he stopped, I opened one eye and Jamie was standing there with a huge, shit eating, grin on his face. If he didn't still have control of my right hand, I'd have slapped him. Hard. Right across the face. He'd be saying his _I do's_ with a bruise in the shape of my hand on his face.

The idiot had only paused for air... "Ye ken he's a doctor and yer a doctor, Claire? Though he's no a medical one like you... his is a PhD. Frank's English and yer English. He's from Suffolk and I weelll, I do'na ken exactly where you are from, except that it's in England somewhere, like Frank here. Your uncle was an archaeologist and Frank's a historian..." Jamie seemed very proud of this find of his.

Instead of choking him to death, which I seriously considered, I sighed and looked at this Doctor; this Very English, Historian, Frank Chap. I closed my eyes in a feeble attempt stop the tears that were welling in my eyes. The part of this nightmare that truly hurt, besides the fact that Jamie clearly did not have any idea of how I felt about him and that he certainly never wanted me, was that this was the type of man Jamie wanted to set me up with. The one he thought I was best suited for and would like. He had even listed the very reasons he thought we should be together. Tears started to roll down my cheeks.

I tried to gather my thoughts as to how to respond, to explain there had been a rather large misunderstanding to Frank. I felt Jamie's finger glide down my very exposed spine. "You're no' wear'n a bra, are ya Sassenach?" He asked as he looked at my profile. He was standing beside me, his body facing mine, his groin pressed into my hip, and not the least bit excited to be there either. His warm breath caressing my exposed neck as he waited for my reply.

I took a deep breath, looked Jamie in the eye and sharply responded, "No Jamie. No, I'm not. Thank you for pointing that out. I had quite forgotten." I closed my eyes and sniffled. When I opened them to look at my new acquaintance, I spoke. "Dr. Randall, is it then?"

Frank reached into his vest pocket and handed me a handkerchief. A clean, white, starched and ironed handkerchief. I did not realize anyone still carried them any more. My Uncle Lambert was the last man I knew that had. Frank tilted his head and looked at me with sad, sympathetic eyes and a weak smile. He acted almost sober and was astute enough, it seemed, to understand what was going on. We had both been duped by the Large, Drunk Scot. Well, we had one more thing to add to Jamie's list of our commonalities.

I barely noticed that Jamie had let go of my wrist and moved to stand completely behind me. He had discovered the back of my dress. _Where all the action was._ I felt his finger touch my back, tracing the **V** cut of the dress back. I closed my eyes as I felt him untied the bow, hook a finger at the waist and pulled it out, away from my body. I felt his forehead rest against my bare back and knew he was looking down. "No bra, are ye no' wearing any knickers either?" He inquired. "Oh, wee black, lacy ones," his voice said excitedly "a thong." I swear I thought I felt his lips brush my back in a hasty kiss. "I'll bet they're bonnie." I felt his finger run along the top of the T-back. "This is quite a nice dress Sassenach," he said as he ran a hand over my ass. When he was done, he gave one cheek a light pat. "You have a verra lovely, round arse, too. Verra nice indeed."

I stood stock still and dabbed at my tears. My makeup had to be ruined, not that I cared at this point. "I am truly sorry Dr. Randall, for my friend's misunderstanding." I spoke to Frank as I raised my chin. "I think it is obvious to _almost_ everyone in this bar that my heart belongs to another and the idiot is totally oblivious to my feelings for him. He is, however, due to be married and off the market in several days, so my situation will change." I stopped talking and closed my eyes as Jamie ran his hand over my ass again. He grabbed the two sash ends and attempted to re-tie the bow. I turned completely around to faced him, my eyes full of anger and humiliation. I pushed him. He, stumbled backward a step or two and looked up at me in utter confusion.

"Stop Jamie" I stated firmly and looked him in the eye. "Don't. You. Dare. Touch. Me. Again." I poked my index finger at his chest in added emphasis.

I think it was the tone I used, rather than the words themselves, that made him look back up at me. I watched as his face registered his error. He finally got it.

"Are ye cry'n Sassenach?" he asked softly.

Then again, maybe he would never understand, I thought and sighed. I ignored Jamie and focused on Frank. "As I was saying," I continued. "I am not really ready for a relationship right now. Do you have a business card? Perhaps I will be up to dating in a couple of months. I could ring you. We could maybe meet for a coffee sometime? At this very moment I am seriously thinking of relocating. Perhaps the moon. Do you travel?"

Frank's face was nothing but kindness. He smiled while nodding his head and said, "I think I'd really like that Claire. Please, do call me. I look forward to hearing from you," and he handed me a business card from his wallet.

"I am afraid I must be going now," my voice past cracking and was starting to shatter. "My coach will be turning back into a pumpkin at any moment. I will owe you a handkerchief when we next meet." I tried to smile but that wasn't going to be possible as my eyes started to rain tears.

"Consider it a gift, Claire." He said in kindness. "It has been a pleasure meeting you. I will look forward to the next time," and he gave me a slight bow.

I could not find it in me to be angry with Jamie any more. I just wanted to go. I needed to leave. I turned, slowly so I didn't wobble, and walked away. Passed Jamie. Passed the team that had all gathered to watch, perhaps thinking things might have ended differently, I suppose. They separated and gave me an aisle that led directly to the exit. I held my head high and I did my best to walk away with some micro-millimeter of my dignity. I felt the untied sash of my dress brush against the back of my legs as I walked. Just before I left the back room I heard...

 _SLAP_ and all the power behind it as Jamie's large hand made contact with Frank's back.

"Told ya she was a bonnie one." I heard Jamie's voice pronounce. "Fierce, witty and smart too. No' just a Doctor, a Surgeon. Ye brought her to tears, ye did." There was a pause then Jamie began again, "Women cry at the funniest things, do they no'? She give ya her number then, did she?" Again another pause. Perhaps Frank responding. "She sure got all dolled up to meet ye."

If Frank responded, I did not hear it nor did I care.

I held a hand up to Murtagh as I walked passed him. A flat palm. STOP, it screamed, DON"T say a word to me. I could not even look Ian in the eye as an uncontrollable sob, that wracked my body, caused me to stumble in front of him. He started to reach for me, but, like any good husband, he understood that I absolutely did not want to be touched right now, even if I fell. I focused on the door and suppressed the silent storm brewing inside me. My humiliation was complete. I did not let the door hit me in the ass on the way out.

As I walked away I thought, I could never look any of these people in the face again. What in the world was I going to do now?

Half way up the block, I answered the page. The A&E. They needed me. I hailed a taxi and went straight there from where I stood. When I arrived, I changed into my scrubs and clogs, turned off my phone and placed it in my locker. I did not want to talk to anybody. I guess it was a good thing I did not have that drink after all.

For the next 36 hours I concentrated on saving lives and tried to forget that James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser ever existed.

XXJAMMFXX

Running today has been the way for me to let go, I tell myself. To rid myself of this pain that is in my heart and I turned _his_ play list off. It was time to let Jamie go. He said "my music was SHIT" when he downloaded _his_ list to my phone. It no longer mattered what he thought and so I will delete his music, his songs. "Goodbye Jamie Fraser." I whispered. I needed a new voice in my head. I would listen to Aretha Franklin and Joan Jet and Pink and Patti LaBelle and Pat Benatar and Janis Joplin and Bonnie Raitt and Barbara Streisand. Strong women with amazing voices. Women that had done it their way, beaten the odds, fought the fight, and won. I stood motionless, feet fixed to the walk, as I watched a black hummer pull up in front of the church. I knew who was inside that vehicle. My feet were frozen in place. I could not move as I watched the doors open and the men of my heart step out into the light.


	8. Chptr 7B: Craig na Dun

_Marriage Material Chapter 7.5 Craig na Dun_

 _Jamie POV_

Claire had settled into the saddle in front of me. I pulled her tightly between my thighs and we rode away. Not toward the others but toward the hills. Away from the celebration. Away from the team and the parade. Away from Culloden Moor...

XXCEBXX

" _No, Mo Charaid, thank you, truly," I'd whispered and placed a light kiss on the back of her heid. She would never ken. For a moment I was afraid that she would no' come with me. At least I'd have her all to myself for just a little while. One last time. There would be hell to pay from Laoghaire, tonight at supper, but it would be well worth it. There would be extra feed for Donas as well, for playing his part in the plan._

 _I had so much to say to her..._

 _I took her to a place I knew, as I child my ma would sometimes take me, a circle of stone called Craig na Dun. I'd make her listen. Try to make her understand._

 _XCEDXX_

My Uncle's wife, Geillis was responsible for our being here on the ancient battlefield on this auspicious day. She was right when she said we all needed to remember that as Scots, we would always be soldiers, always defend the cause. And as warriors we protected our people, our families, our homes. It was our core, the very essence of who we were as a people. It is our heritage; the who and what we are, what runs in our veins. It seemed fitting for us to hold the annual graduation ceremony here. To remember our past as we move forward into our future. I swear in a previous life my Aunt Geillis was a Jacobite. I had the feeling she was wee wicked in her pursuit of the cause in that other life.

I needed to be alone with Claire. I needed to explain. After the Soiree she would no' see me nor return any of my calls. My godfather said he couldn't blame her. "You lied to the lass," he had declared passionately. "Women do'na care to be lied to." Said the man that had never been married, let alone had a serious relationship, that I ken of.

The announcement was'na suppose to be that night, 'twas planned for the next morning, at brunch, with only close family in attendance. My uncle was settling the score. Retaliation for the injury I had paid him earlier in the gaming room, when I had removed Claire from harms way. I ken he'd had his eye on her, ever since the night of Ian's surgery and had boasted about what a fiery mistress she would make him; that he was sure she would be a vixen in bed. Tonight he had made his move and she had spurn his advances with disdain, chosen to leave with me instead. I had challenged him would be the only way he'd ever view the incident. Challenged him and won. I ken that, though it had not been my intention at the time. Normally I would have turned the other cheek, walked away, as I had countless of times before when I'd witnessed one of my Uncle's indiscretions. But this was Dr. Beauchamp, Ian's doctor. I owed her, for all she had done. So Murtagh and I had waited, to see if she could handle the likes of my uncle, to see if she could take care of herself. The British Officer tried to step in, but my uncle resoundingly squelched his efforts and that cost Claire her courage. Dougal had frightened her when he grabbed her. She had not expected that and lost control of the situation with the touch of that firm grip when it landed on her arm. I would not allow any harm to befall her under ma watch and I ken what my uncle was capable of. I had no choice but to intercede.

The lesson I was being taught was two fold. 'Twas my uncle's way of reminding me to keep out'a his business – to remind me that I was now engaged and need no' concern myself with any lasses but Laoghaire _and_ that Claire was his. My uncle brooked no interference in his hunts, for that was what Claire was to him – prey, plain and simple. I believed there was an underlying message there for Claire as well, and being a smart lass, she understood it – that I, her rescuer, was off the market, no' available, engaged. Shutting down anything that might have been before it could possibly have begun. I watched her face as my uncle announced the engagement. As the appearance of confusion on her face evolved into comprehension, I closed my eyes and sighed. I ken the friendship we had begun to build, was no more. I opened my eyes to dare another look at my Sassenach and watch as her face morphed into anger, I ken she would no' listen to anything I had to say on the matter. And when her glass face settled on a look of complete humiliation and sadness, I ken I'd lost her; she'd never speak to me again. Gone were our insightful, funny and always enlightening conversations that I had looked forward to every morning over coffee with great expectations. She thought I'd lied to her. That she was no more than just a plaything te me and that was why she'd left as the announcement was made. I had'na really lied to her, nor would I, ever, I had told her earlier in the evening. By no' telling her of Laoghaire right away, I had just bought myself some time, 'tis all. As I said, the engagement was to have happen the next morning, when I had my mam's ring to present to Laoghaire. My uncle ken because the ring was in his possession. I had asked him for it when Ian was in Hospital. I had intended to tell Claire before the end of the evening, and _I believe_ I would have. I was raised to be an honorable man. I had made a promise to Laoghaire the day Ian's horse had taken it's spill. When Ian was hurt, we had agreed to delay the announcement until after Ian was well, once he was released from hospital.

In all honesty, I was no' sure what I would have done at that night, as I stood there, my hands resting on Laoghaire's hips, if my uncle had not taken it upon himself to choose my course of action. Laoghaire was so verra happy, it was hard not to feel glad that I was the reason for it. But I was angry at my Uncle for taking that control away from me. The why of it, that I did'na ken. 'Twas for me to announce, no' him and that gave me pause to think. I felt a strong _need_ to spend more time with Claire. To drink my fill of her beauty and wit. To feel that tingle when I touched her and hear her laugh just once more, before I let her go. None of those things I felt with Laoghaire or for her. Maybe, just maybe I had thought, I would'na have given Laoghaire my mam's ring after all. You see, I think, looking back, I had already fallen in love with Claire and just did'na ken it.

After Laoghaire had shown everyone my mam's ring, we proceeded downstairs to show her seanmhair _(grandmother)._ Mrs. FitzGibbons was ecstatic to be sure. Could'na stop hug'n and kiss'n us both, going from one to the other as if her heart were go'na burst. As soon as I was able I made my excuses and left to find Claire. To explain before she was gone. I found her, finally, dancing with the verra same British Lieutenant that had defended her against my uncle's advances. Claire caught sight of me as she made to leave and was immediately pulled into a dance with Willie, the youngest member of my team. I attempted to position myself to cut in on their next pass when I was interrupted by one of the available ladies, in need of a dance partner. "Twas my uncle's party, I could no' deny her. By the time I made my escape, Claire was gone. I went directly to the front drive but the valet said Doctor Beauchamp had not come to collect her car, as of yet, so I went back to the house to further my search. I never did find her.

XXCEBXX

Donas had no problem carrying the two of us. I ken where I wanted to take her. A place I remembered, where we could talk, openly, and no one to interrupt us. Nor would she be able to steal away or avoid me, as she had been doing since before the soiree. I took her to a place my mam had shown me as a lad. Claire uttered not a word for the time it took to get there. I was fine that we did no' speak. I had her firmly between my legs and my arm tight about her waist as we rode to the top of the hill. I was content to just touch her for the duration of our ride. I dismounted and offered my hand up to help her but she shook her head and managed to find the ground on her own. My uncle was correct, she was a vixen, to be sure.

"Standing Stones?" She exclaimed. "I did not realize there were Standing Stones anywhere around here, Major. How did you know?" She inquired.

I was _Major._ I had my work cut out for me. "My mam used to bring me here when I was but a lad." I replied. "'Tis no' so very far from Lallybroch. The stones still come te me in my dreams some nights as well."

Still holding onto Donas' reins, Claire began to walked the outer rim of the stones, running her hands over the rough, gray surface of them as she passed. "What sort of dreams do you have that they would include the stones?" Her face showed true interest.

I watched as she circled the entire outer ring. "Just dreams. Maybe past lives resurfacing... I suppose, if ye believe in that sort of thing."

"Do you?" She inquired.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm a Scot. I have grown up with stories of fairies, witches and wee ghosties my whole life, Sassenach. 'Tis no' a far stretch to add the mysterious stones, aye?" I watched her face as she gave thought to what I'd said, her glass face allowing me the perfect window into those thoughts. Not an ounce of skepticism. How had Ian ken just how special this English Lass was, I wondered and whether, if we went back far enough, she might have been a Scot in some previous life. "I am an educated, well traveled, modern man, ye ken, but ye can'na just remove the legends of silkies and water horses that were the bedtime stories of my youth. They are as much a part of me as the air I breathe." The memories of the tales my parents would weave for us bairn at bedtime made me smile and I kicked at the ground as I did.

"Why did you bring me here? All this way?" Claire asked as she led Donas inside the circle. "To show me the stones, as you showed me your aunt's garden?" She cocked her head and furrowed her brow when she spoke, as if something were bothering her. Donas' ears became expressive, alert; standing straight up and swiveling, like sonar scanning the silence. He'd heard something, listening to the wind, searching for a sound I could no' hear. Did Claire hear it too?

My senses heightened at their actions. I swept the hilltop, making sure the stones were safe, that nothing approached. When convinced, I stated "My aunts garden, was somethi'n I could share with ye, Sassenach. To thank ye for everything you'd done for Jen and Ian. Though, I ken, it's connection to the Soiree makes it no' a fond memory for ye, aye?"

"Not so much, no." she answered softly. "I try not to think about that day, quite honestly."

Damn the lass, would she no' use my name? I gave her a sad sort of smile, where my lips were drawn tight but the corners of my mouth curled ever so slightly. "I too, wanted to give ye a gift to thank ye, one from my heart. So I brought you someplace special te me." I said a little bashfully. "Craig na Dun is such a place. It stand alone, begs to be different, strong and unique, like you, Claire.

She looked me straight in the face and blushed.

Yes! I was do'n _the happy dance_ inside. I ken she would forgive me. "We had the running, but that stopped, sudden like. Somethi'n, I do'na begin to understand, happened at hospital, aye? Ye just stopped talk'n te me, Claire. Why? What did I do?" My tone was one of confusion, begging her to tell me what had angered her enough to no longer speak te me. I needed to fix this broken thing between us, but I could'na until I ken what broke in the first place. I paused for a moment to allow her time to collect her thoughts and answer.

She looked up at me with sorrowful eyes. "I met Laoghaire, Jamie. At hospital." was all she replied. It spoke volumes.

"I ken I should have told ye lass. But my heart did'na want ye te ken. What we had started, the friendship... 'twas still new and fragile. I was afraid it would all end with yer know'n." I sighed. "I suppose it's the actually truth of it." I walked to the furthest stone from where she stood with Donas. "Oh, Claire, can ye no forgive me, lass?" I implored. "I suppose that would explain the _Run for Balls_ event, as well. Ye hardly spoke a word te me at charity run, even though we had planned to run together. I'd waited for ye at the finish, te cheer for yoo as ye crossed... figured you'd be to tired to fight with me and we might talk afterwards. I never saw you finish.

She would no' meet my eyes but shook her heid _No_ in reply. She and Donas walked to the other end of the of the stone circle's diameter.

"I need..." I began with no clear direction on how to repair this awkward conversation; to say what needed to be said. "No... I must explain myself te ye. Ye need to understand, Sassenach, I would never lie te ye..." I said as I closed the distance between us. I stopped only when my hand touched Donas' neck. My hand patted and stroked the shinny, black coat several times before I spoke again. "I do'na like the way things were left between us at my uncle's..."

"There is no need to clarify, Jamie." Claire interrupted as she moved to place Donas between us. "You do not owe me any explanation." She sighed. "I totally misread your kindness, your generosity, as more than was intended, that's all. It is I that should apologize to you. You were just being an attentive host. I should never have been so forward as to kiss you." She paused and looked at me with almost a sadness in her eyes. "I suppose I just got caught up in your rescue of me from your uncle." She paused to take a breath. "I hope you can forgive me, that we can put that evening's events in the past and please, accept my most heart felt congratulations to you and Laoghaire. I wish you all the best..." She looked up at me quite hesitantly and gave me a weak, trembling sort of smile. There was no conviction to any of her words. Her face showed me the of lack of affirmation she felt as she spoke them.

Ifrinn, I thought to myself. "Claire. I brought you here, taken this opportunity, to speak truths. To tell you mine and for you to share yours as well. I ken that I am engaged to Laoghaire. As a man of honor, I will see the pledge I made to her and her two daughters to it's rightful end. Of that there is no question. I just wanted to say, that having met you, I realize that the values I held in high regard, those that I looked for in my choice of mate are no' the same as they were before I met you. You have made me re-evalute the qualities that I would desire in a wife... No, a _partner_ , in life. I now realize that besides trust and honesty, to have a mate that talks to me, challenges me, questions my choices and communicates options and opinions of her own, that will love me enough to help me to grow into a better person is much more desirous than one that placates me and is submissive in both opinions and attitude. I will marry but once. If I were to select again I would want an equal by my side. A woman, no' a lass." I rounded Donas to look directly into Claire's face and the look of shock that it was wearing. Whatever I had said, had come as a complete surprise to her.

We were standing less than a foot apart now, with no horse wedged between us. Claire seemed uncomfortable and backed away several steps. She dropping the reins though she allowed her hand to stay in contact with Donas, skimming down his neck, along his side and ultimately resting on his flank. I gathered the reins, under Donas' chin, knowing he would bolt if left to his own devices and continued to talk.

"You ken that night was special to me. As are you, Sassenach" and I took another step forward. It was taking all I had no' to reach out and grab her, as my uncle had done, and pull her into my chest. God, a part of me wanted this woman so badly I could hardly breathe. _Remember your vow to Laoghaire, remember your vow..._ I chanted in my head as I moved toward her. Never closing the gap... every step I took forward, she took two back and so we danced until she was almost up against the center stone, the one with the great crack down the center.

Claire came to a stop a step or two from the center stone. She put her hand up and said "Stop Jamie. Please." She turned to the stone and then back to me. Donas' ears flickered in earnest now. He snorted and pawed the ground.

"Are their bees in that stone? Is there a hive?" she asked.

"Bee's?" I questioned.

"Yes, do you not hear the buzzing? The closer I get to this stone," she turned and almost touched it, "the louder the sound. There must be a hive in the crack." She took another step forward, her hand tentatively outreached, stretching toward it.

"Don't" I said as I reached to grab her. Something, I did'na ken, was no' right. Donas clearly sensed the same thing and stamped his foot in earnest.

My movement startled her. She turned back to me, but stepped back at the same time, missing her step. She started to fall, backwards...

She would hit her head on the stone for sure. I lunged and made a grab for her, dropping Donas' reins as I did. I needed to reach Claire...

She was in my arms, held tightly against my chest. Both of us breathing heavily. With no thought, I kissed her. And praise god, she kissed me back. Hard, full of want and desire. She felt the same pull toward me as I did to her. I closed my eyes and kissed her harder, with everything I felt for her poured into that kiss. I told her I would no' lie... My hand fisted her hair behind her head. So soft, the curls between my fingers. I felt the tingle as she gently stroked my jaw with her fingertips. I tried no' to think, to just respond to Claire and her body. I adjusted my position, turning my head and deepened the kiss, a contented moan escaped me as I did. My senses were going wild with all the physical contact.

Suddenly I was pushed, knocked from the side, causing me to fall sideways, arms flailing, stumbling to keep my feet underneath me. I lost all contact with Claire in the attempt to keep myself upright. When I gained control of my lateral motion, I looked back. Donas had nosed me out of the way. I swear to you the horse was laughing. Claire certainly was.

I bend over, my hands resting on my knees and joined the laughter, partly from what Donas had done, but mostly from the uncomfortableness of kiss. What had I just done? My mind raced. I had kissed Claire. Passionately. Without thinking, with absolutely no hesitation, I had kissed the woman, without her consent, without regard for Laoghaire. Worse, I wanted nothing more than to do it again. Just as I started to take a step forward, back to Claire, I remembered the pledge I'd made to Laoghaire, sworn to make her mine. Placed my mam's ring on her finger to seal that promise. I looked at Claire and I stopped.

Her laughter ended in a groan. Her smile dissolved and her face reflected the knowledge of what I was thinking; Laoghaire.

"Claire..." I began as I stepped forward.

"Yes Jamie?" She questioned softly as she stood her ground. Whisky eyes bright with possibility.

"I ken I should'na have..." I took another step forward. My eyes sweeping her face, filing her features away in the memory of the moment.

"Oh." Her head dropped, thought not before I noted her eyes shift from hope to sorrow.

"I wanted to tell ye how very much I admire ye. That ye are a bonnie, braw lass..."

"Admire me?" She looked back up at me and for the first time since I'd ken her, I could no' read her face. Her face was glass no more. Impenetrable wood, it was now. I could no' tell what she was think'n.

"Yes. I am so grateful to ken ye. Ye have taught me so much..."

"And what exactly is it that I have taught you, to ignore the values you hold dear?" And her eyes were almost the color of a storm, brewing, growing darker by the moment.

I took the last step needed to close the gap and startled by her sudden movement, took the reins she shoved at me. She snorted in anger and walked away. After establishing a safe distance between us, Claire stopped. She was at the edge of the center stone once again. Half the diameter, a radius away.

"Why? What was that kiss about then? I won't play the other woman, you know." She stated firmly and folded her arms across her chest.

"I do'na ken Claire. Honest. I feel such a great pull toward ye. Like I'll die without ye. When I touched ye at the Soiree, 'twas like my body was aflame. The whole ride here as well. Tell me ye do not feel the same thing, when we touch."

Claire nodded her head in agreement. She felt it too.

"I wanted nothing more than to be in your company. I could have talked with ye all night. I've never felt anything like that with Laoghaire. All I ever want to do with Laoghaire is bed her. Same with all the other lasses I've dated. Yer the first that I've wanted more from..."

"So you want to talk to me?"

"Aye, but more than that. I have such a strong connection with yoo, Claire. Like I've know ye all my life, even though I just met ye...

"So you still love Laoghaire. You still want to marry her." She stated with a tilt of her head and a narrowing of her eyes. "But you want to snog me whenever we're alone? Do I have that right, Major?"

Oh shite. She was back to calling me _Major_. That can'na be a good thing. How does she manage to sneachda _(fluster)_ me so? "No... I mean, yes... No. Yes. Maybe?"

"Which is it Major Fraser?"

Ifrinn. The woman would be the death of me. "I want you Claire, or I think I might... I feel a very strong pull toward you. But I am engaged to Laoghaire. I can offer you nothing..."

Claire glared at me as she backed out of the stone circle. "You know what, Major Fraser, I'm going to do you a favor. A BIG one. I am going to take myself out of this equation, this happy threesome thing you have going on in your head." Her hand waved at me like she was swatting a fly. "I am nobody's second choice. Do you understand me? You were correct when you said you knew when I found out about your fiancé our _friendship_ would end. It is done. Over. Don't contact me again. Loose my number. Over." Claire turned and walked away, almost starting down the slop. Suddenly she stopped and turned in a circle. Without a word, she walked back to the edge of the stones and said "Just as soon as you take me back to my car."

"Yes, Sassenach." I replied. I smiled to myself as I turned and mounted Donas. I had the entire ride back to fix this. God, she challenged me at every turn. No way could I give her up. I would find a way to make this friendship of ours work, since it could no' be more than that. Screw my uncle.


	9. Chptr 8: Get Me To The Church On Time

Marriage Material Chapter 8 Get Me To The Church On Time

Claire POV

No more running. It's time to face the music. _Hello by Adele_ played on my Iphone.

I continued to watch as the guests strolled blissfully into the church. 10:45am sharp, a black hummer pulled up and out poured the men of my heart. First, from the back, on the street side was Ian. As he rounded the back of the vehicle I could clearly see how handsome he was. I removed my sunglasses to have a better look. Ian had always been the nice, funny, side-kick kind of guy. The good looking guy's best buddy, the one that never got the girl but always made you laugh. Well, I understand what Jenny saw in him, probably the first time she ever laid eyes on him when he had finally grown out of that geeky boy stage into the man I saw before me. I mean, WOW. I'd never seen him in formal attire, in a tux... and he... looked... GOOD! His hair was tied back in a fox tail. Was that a ribbon, I saw? My brother-in-law, he would never be. The plus side is, I would never be related to Jenny either. I brushed away a tear as it rolled down my cheek. My almost family.

The Driver's door opened and Murtagh stepped out. I love Jamie's Godfather with all of my heart. He had become such an integral part of this craziness that seems to be my life right now, all of which changes today, within the hour. He would never be the most handsome man in the room but he epitomizes the statement _Never Judge A Book By It's Cover._ Maybe he wasn't much to look at on the outside, but the inside was pure gold. I never realized just how lucky I was that he had insisted on accompanying Jenny and Jamie back to Post Op to see Ian. I count my lucky starts for that day, rather night, that led me to the Fraser's of Lallybroch. Even, now, knowing how it all ends, I would not trade my time with these three men for all the tea in China.

I knew I would have to give Murtagh up as well. I could not ask him to choose and it would not be fair to Laoghaire for me to remain in contact with him. A clean and thorough break. I would have asked him to walk me down the aisle, if this were my wedding. In my dreams, he always does. My tears were falling more frequently now, like a gentle rain, and I wiped my cheeks with my sleeve. Captain Murtagh FitzGibbons Fraser scanned the area, looking for strangers, for bogies. Typical Military. I smiled. He passed me in the scan then quickly returned, his gaze rested on me. Bogie found. Person non gratis located and identified. He removed his sunglasses to take a better look. The valet distracted him and he turned to converse with the man, giving me just enough time to move. I told myself to quickly cross the kirkyard and get out. Go over the wall onto the side street below. Use the cover of the shade trees in the yard. When he turned back, I'd be gone. Just a figment of his imagination, a glare in the sunlight.

Except that I could not make my limbs move; to work as I commanded them, to walk or better yet, run away. Always away, never toward. Running away from my own true feelings. Running away from Jamie has worked so far, why stop with what worked, right? Because, I had to know. I had to see _him_ , one last time, for in less than a hour, he would no longer be anyone's but Laoghaire's, if this was truly his chosen path. With their _I do's_ I would accept what they had was real and I would leave. Buy a ticket, catch a plane, ship or train, to who cared where, and disappear, forever. I would be strong enough to walk away from him, I told myself, even though I had serious reservations about my stalwartness. Could I really disappear from Jamie's life forever, leave him behind and never see him again? My five month history with him thus far had proven this statement false. I always come back...

no...

yes. Absolutely.

Well, I really wasn't sure.

When one door closes another one opens, isn't that how the saying goes?

I sucked in air and almost choked. Jamie. He was mind blowingly gorgeous. All 6' 3" of Nordic Viking God. Dressed in a beautiful tux. Just a fine black wool, European cut. None of that silly satin trim. Crisp, white shirt, classic black bow tie. Fit like a glove, and how I wished I were that glove. His curly auburn hair neatly controlled in a queue, not a single loose wave, complete with coordinated black ribbon. That would be Jenny, looking out for her men. God. He. Looked. Good. When I dreamed of our wedding, he'd wore his dress kilt, but this wasn't my wedding, so Laoghaire must not have wanted that traditional dress. Then all eyes would have been on him, not her... and she would have had to wear a traditional dress as well, complete with the Fraser Color sash rather than whatever lingerie passed for a wedding dress these days. Heaven forbid!

Murtagh caught up with Jamie, who had stopped, standing on the second step, scanning the small crowd that had gathered across the street. His godfather gently tugged at Jamie's elbow and he turned and they had a short conversation that ended when his head snaps up and he looked up the path. A cloud passed and emitted the sun and he was like this Male, Fucking Model, highlighted in this special sunlit glow, shining down on him, just for him. He smiled, his beautiful, all encompassing, knee weakening, Jamie smile, and my heart broke all over again. Shattered like glass. I had to grab my chest, it hurt so much. I gasped and an audible sob escaped me.

He looked directly up the steps and into my gasping, sobbing, miserable face. Damn Murtagh. Squealer. I jumped to the side, and ran amongst the graves, using one of the larger, monument style markers as cover. I didn't think he saw me. I prayed he did not see me. Please God don't let Jamie have recognized me. Bad enough I am here, stalking his wedding, please don't allow him catch me at it. I peeked around the edge of the monument and looked down the path to the steps waiting for _him_ to appear. He bounded up the steps toward the church, barking to his godfather and brother-in-law as they followed him up the path. _He_ stopped in front of the church and turned in a circle. God, even from the back he looked good. I've seen that ass in running shorts and that ass made those trousers look resplendent. And in a kilt…he could make a kilt move like nobody's business when he walked away from you; better than watching Marilyn Monroe in _Niagara_. Suddenly I noticed Murtagh was staring right at me.

Fuck. I needed to get out of here. But how?

I panicked and lean against the sheltering marker again. _Think_ I told myself. _Get yourself out of this mess._ I scanned my somewhat limited options. The church and Jamie laid behind me, on the other side of the marker I was leaning against. The church was not a sanctuary, not for me today. The church was not an option. More of the kirkyard and the crest of a small hill to the right. I had no idea what was beyond the small rise. Not a good option. Additional kirkyard laid ahead of me with a walled drop to a side street straight ahead. I'd have to clear the ironwork fence though. It probably encompassed the entire church property so that meant to the right was not really an option either. To my left, the only known path to freedom, the steps that led back the way I came in. I would have to make a dash for them. They would not follow me. They had a wedding to attend. All they really wanted was for me to be gone. I had not thought this visit to the church through very well. But in my defense, I had not planned on coming at all, let alone on being caught. I took a deep breath and checked around the marker to see if the coast was clear.

"What do ye think ye are do'n here lass?" the tenor voice, I knew all too well, asked from behind me.

I yelped. Jumped, in fright, and slammed my back against the marker. I turned to see Murtagh, only Murtagh thank heavens, standing there looking at me. He was not smiling but his eyes glowed with merriment. "Judas" I hissed at him. "He'd have never known I was here if you hadn't blathered to him. Big mouth."

"Have ye come te have a wee talk with Jamie then? Ye kinda waited till the last minute te tell him how ye feel about him, lass." He smiled as he uttered the words.

I shot him a quick and hurtful look. "Me?" I growled. "How did this turn into my fault? Were you not at the same Stag Party I was? There was no point, no reason to tell him. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Murtagh, he tried to set me up on a date.."

"Aye, Lass. Yoo," Murtagh stated in reply. "Yer the one that's in love with Jamie..."

"Alright, I'll give you that. That's right" I nodded my head in confirmation. "I fell in love with Jamie. _He_ is in love with Laoghaire and I _need_ to leave." _Jamie_ , I repeated to myself as my eyes filled with fear. I panicked and made an impulsive dash for the steps. Just as I reached the top, a limo arrived. No need to guess who was in it. I stopped. I really did not want to see her. Now my only way out was blocked. As the vehicle coasted to a stop, a door popped opened and out jumped Laoghaire. She had not even waited for car to completely stop or for someone to help her out. She gathered the front of her dress, lifted the floor length hem to her knees and hopped. I was sure she was prepared to run up the bloody steps to the church as well. Sadly, I totally understood why too. I'd have run also, if Jamie were waiting for me inside that church. Charging rhinos could not have hindered me. I took a deep breath. I had to give her props. As much as I did not want to admit it, she looked pretty, _not beautiful_. Very bride worthy. Not bad for 27, two kids and about to be married for the third time. She had to be amazing in bed. I was right, she had elected to basically wear a negligee; plunging neckline and an even more revealing back. I swear I could see both her navel and her butt crack. That had to be a first in blushing bridal wear. No way was that neckline staying there on its own. It had to be taped in place. She couldn't be wearing any undergarments either unless band aids counted. One for each nipple and they'd have to be the round ones, the strip ones would have shown. And then Jenny was helped out. She did look beautiful, though I would not have dressed her in midnight blue; it looked almost black, like she was in mourning. The two other women, that exited the limo, must have been bridesmaids as well, dressed in the same unflattering blue. I did not recognize either of them. Last were Laoghaire's daughters. I always thought flower girls stole the show at most weddings; they always had such fluffy, girly, pink dresses, hats and gloves. So cute. Not Joan and Marsali, they were dressed in that same god awful midnight blue, which did nothing for their already pale complexions except to make them look even paler, almost a sickly white. No frills, no ribbons, no lace on either of them. My heart broke for them. The two girls had stolen Jamie's heart as well and I knew played an integral part in Laoghaire getting Jamie to the alter. Each took one of Jenny's offered hands as Laoghaire was already climbing the steps, not even waiting for the rest of her party to catch up. Her movement brought my focus back to her. Laoghaire was climbing the steps. I was standing at the top of the steps... Please tell me she was not running.

I gave up. It would not do for Laoghaire, on her special day, find me blocking her path to the church. Standing between herself and the groom. I could not do that to her. Would not. I had to leave. Over the wall it would have to be then. I turned only to find Jamie standing right there blocking the path back to the church and my exit. Ian and Murtagh flanked him. To say he looked unhappy, would be a bit of an understatement, with his arms folded across his chest and his glaring eyes locked on me. I sighed. I could offer no explanation or excuse for my presence, so I walked to a bench under one of the trees in the kirkyard, about twenty-five feet away and sat down.

I looked down at my feet, my body trembled as my fingers fidgeted. No point in watching for him. I knew he would come. So I waited. I don't know how much time passed before someon approached and sat down beside me. Ian. I sighed with relief. He laid his hand on top of mine, stilling my fingers instantly and then gave them a gentle squeeze.

I looked up at him with vacant, hollowed eyes and said nothing. I didn't need to.

Ian's look of shock said it all. "Claire! I just saw you two days ago. What's happened te ..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. He knew. "Why didn't you pick up the phone when I called? Or call me back? No one could find yoo..."

"Worked 36 hours straight in the A&E," was all I said.

Jamie interrupted, clearing his throat. "What do ya think yer do'n here Sassenach?" He asked with a harsh, hard tone. Not that I didn't deserve it.

I looked up, slowly. His face was firm and guarded, but not totally without kindness, though he did not look very pleased to see me either.

"Out for a run." I said with no inflection at all. Please don't let my glass face give me up, I silently prayed to any angels listening.

"Running?" He repeated, his head tilted slightly to the left. "To or from?"

Fuck. James Fraser head games. I never win theses. _"To" meant I was running to this spot. "From" meant I was running from something. To or From? From or To?_ How should I answer...

"To work" I replied. In my head I was smiling. I'd out foxed him, or so I thought.

"Then," he asked as he cleared his throat, "why are you here? You live over there" and he pointed to his left and behind him. "And hospital is over there." He pointed once again, behind him but to the right. "This church does no lie anywhere between the two points. And, ye just told Ian ye just came off a 36 hour shift. That can be no fib, because ye certainly look like ye have..."

I huffed and shook my head. "Truth, Jamie," I said. "I promised you truth, once, months ago. I swallowed then took a deep breath. "I needed to witness this wedding for myself. To see you really, truly married to Laoghaire." I wrung my hands in my lap and Ian tried to still them again. I never took my eyes off Jamie.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why what?" I repeat my head cocked in confusion.

"Why are ye really here, Claire? You promised me truth. I want the truth. I deserve the truth." He whispered softly.

"You? _YOU_ deserve the truth? Is that what you think?" I clenched my fists and glared at him. "What about me? Don't I deserve the same? You promised me truth once as well. Have you been honest with me?" I stood and walked into his personal space. "Marrying Laoghaire... is that _really_ what you want? Because I had the impression that we had something pretty special going that night at the Soiree. Was I wrong?" I looked at him long and hard. No hint of what he was thinking in the poker face of his. "And you? You did not choose to fight for it. A simple, mouthed _Sorry_ was all I was worth. Or were you just playing me wrong the whole night?" I snorted. "And what was that passionate kiss on that little side trip to Craig na Dun about, huh?" I added as an afterthought.

That bastard, stepped forward and closed the distance between us. Leaving us in such close proximity, that if a leaf dropped from the tree we were standing under and landed between us it would never reach the ground. Yet there was no physically touching of our bodies... he inhaled. Softly, so that only I could hear. He placed his face next to mine, our cheeks a hair's breadth from meeting as he softly sniffed. He held his breath for a moment then exhaled.

My body trembled in reply. I did not full comprehend what he was playing at and I snorted in return. He remained calm and made only a slight, subtle movement... turned his head so that his nose almost grazed my neck and inhaled again, deeply. His lips trying to rest in the crook of my neck, but resisting. I stretched my neck, trying to make him. I felt the warmth of his breath as he exhaled through his mouth instead.

A sigh. I heard him sigh. That very sound almost undid me.

He was melding us. Not through bodies, only the touching of our souls... It was so intimate; the movements, the sounds. So intimate . So sexy. I closed my eyes and listened to him breath me in. Into his lungs... as our breathing became a single rhythm. Never touching, a whisker away at best... as our bodies fused into one. A sigh as our heart beats linked, pounding now as single beat. Not once touching; he did not need to, as he joined us, synchronized us, made two symbiotic entities... one heartbeat, one soul.

My anger, gone and our hearts were one, we, neither of us, moved a muscle as he spoke softly, "Tell me Claire." There was that rolling _"R"_ thing he did with his voice that tore, as always, at my chest. "Tell me your heart."

And with eyes still closed and our bodies almost one, I whispered "I love you, James Fraser. I always have. I probably always will." I sighed as I admitted my truth to him. "I'm ruined for life. Poor Frank Randall, right?" I answered, took a step back and looked up at him. "From the moment I met you at hospital the night Ian was brought in, my heart has not beat regularly around you. I almost didn't want Ian to ever heal, for fear I'd never see you again. Horrible, I know." I turned briefly to Ian and gave him a weak smile. "Then at your uncle's little soiree, which, as fate would have it, was the very night you announced your engagement to Laoghaire, when you reached out and pinned that loose curl back into place in the stables, you smiled and I was a goner, Jamie. Plain and simple. Do you remember that?" I stopped for a moment to collect my thoughts before I continued. I looked quickly to the drop at the edge of the kirkyard. To late for that I told myself. "Even your Aunt Jocasta knew I'd fallen for you that night, Jamie. She said as much to me, before I left."

I stopped when Jamie turned to his grandfather and raised an eyebrow in question.

Murtagh just nodded his head. Confirming Jocasta's comment.

"I never wanted anything so much in my entire life, Jamie. More than Medical School, if you can believe that. I gave it all up for you. " I told him in all honesty.

Jamie looks at me in disbelief, his brow furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes darken in thought.

"Yes, more than that," I said nodding my head at him. "I can't get you out of my head. Never have, and Lord knows I've tried, not even on your wedding day. I tried working you out of my system; I've come off a 36 hour shift in an attempt to forget you. That hadn't worked, so went to the park to run you out of my heart this morning. My feet betrayed me and brought me here. Now my feet won't let me leave, because my heart knows I needed to see this, for closure. To catch one last glimpse of you, and to hear you say _I do_." I sighed. "I'm so sorry." I wiped the tears from my eyes with the heel of my hand. "There I've said it. Made my confessed. Are we good now?" I looked up at him, my eyes pleading. "May I please leave?"

"No, Mo Neighan Donn," he whispered softly. "For I have a truth as well. I fell in love for the first time at my uncle's party; that verra night as well. Only it was'na with the lass I am betrothed to.

I made a quiet moaning noise and put my hand over my mouth. I looked at Murtagh with question in my eyes.

Murtagh nodded with a knowing smile. "After ye left the Stag Party, Ian and I had Sean make a fresh pot of coffee and we, and the wee clot-heid over there, had a verra long, verra eye opening conversation," Murtagh said shaking his head. "He kens the truth now. All of it. He loves ye, truly lass."

I walked to Murtagh, grab both his ears firmly, pulled his head down and kissed him softly on the tip of his nose "I've said some pretty horrible things about you over the last several days. I take them all back."

I moved to Ian, tears streaming down my face. He just smiled and said "Jenny will get over it. She can'na be mad at us forever, aye?" I snorted a laugh and placed a hand on his cheek, caressing it with my thumb. _Thank you_ I mouthed silently.

Ian stood, took me by the shoulders and said, "No. I think we can do better than that" and he kissed me, lovingly, on both cheeks. I grabbed his ears and kissed his nose as well.

I turned back around and walked the half dozen steps or so steps into Jamie's waiting arms. "Oh God, Jamie," I sobbed. "Is this really happening?"

I felt his tears on my forehead as he laid his cheek on the top of my head. "Aye," He said. "For if it 'tis but a dream, I hope I never wake up."

"I've dreamed of this moment for so long..." I whispered and held onto him for dear life, my face buried in his chest.

"Kiss me Sassenach" he said and I raised my lips to meet his.

"We've got trouble ye two. Best break it up for now. Because the Devil herself has reared her ugly heid," Murtagh exclaimed in a tone the sent chills up my spine.

Jamie broke off the kiss but instead of releasing me from our embrace, he pulled me tighter to his chest. I knew he wasn't going to let go of me now that we had finally found our way to each other. Jamie looked over me to Murtagh and then turned his gaze to the church. I turned and looked as well.

There was Laoghaire standing on the path staring daggers at us, or rather, just at me. By body language and and facial expressions, I could clearly see the hatred, fresh and raw. It took the breath from me. Her body was completely straight and ridged. Her hands down by her sides looked like the talons from a bird of prey. I would not wish to have my arm trapped in one.

I struggled free from Jamie's embrace. He too has seen the look on his fiancé's face and had turned to stone, just stared at her. I backed away. A good yard or so away... from Jamie. "You have not told her, have you? Even though you just said you loved me, you're still going through with this wedding..." I choked out.

That broke the spell. "What? No, no Sassenach. I told her..." He said as he reached for me and missed as I stepped away. "I went to her that morning. After the Stag Party and an entire pot of coffee. Straight away." He stepped toward me with his hand held out.

I quickly backed up several more paces. "Well, I don't know what you said to her but clearly she is under the impression that you two are still getting married today."

"No," was all Jamie could utter. "Laoghaire was fine when I left. She was crying but seemed to understand... though I do'na think she wished us well. Truly she understood, Sassenach."

"Well, she doesn't look calm now and, you're right, she does not seem to be wishing us well at all. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Jamie, she's dressed in her fucking wedding dress and brought her bridesmaids." I stated as I extended my arm and pointed. "What did you say to her?"

Jamie looked furious. "Dè am boireannach gòrach a 'cluich aig?" ( _What is the silly woman playing at?_ ) and walked toward her.

I watched as he walked away. Not looking back. I turned to the dropped wall behind me and took the dozen or so steps to reach it. I placed my hands on the bars and rested my forehead against the cold metal. I closed my eyes and reminded myself that I was doing exactly what I had accused Jamie of at the Soiree. Of being a coward and not fighting for what his heart desired. Well, I would fight for mine. I turned and walked back and stood with Murtagh and Ian. We watched as Jamie's conversation made no impression on Laoghaire. She was animated and dramatic, hands clinging to him, fisting his jacket. The volume of the discussion increased and Jamie took her by the elbow and tried to lead her up the path, passed the doors and the late arriving guests.

Jenny appeared, just as Laoghaire jerked herself free, returning, having escorted Laoghaire's two daughters inside, away from the drama unfolding. She shot the three of us a look of complete ire, causing Ian to dislodge himself from our little collective and leave to provide aid to his brother and wife, though I was not sure they were of the same mind. I wondered which of the two he would eventually choose to support. Of course, it would have to be Jenny... Which side would Jenny be on?

Murtagh must have reached the same conclusion. "I'll go and even the sides a bit, lass. You wait here for us." He winked as he turned to go. "Have no fear, this will all be over in moments. 'Course they'll have to go inside and make an announcement to the guests as well..."

I reached out and placed a hand on his arm to stop him. If Jamie went into that church, he would not come out a free man. I knew that. Murtagh read my glass face. "No lass, Jamie loves ye. He is resolute, Claire. He will no waiver. He kens he almost lost ye once, he will no do it again. His heart is yers." He gave me a reassuring smile then walked away.

Men don't often know what is in a woman's heart nor to what lengths they will go to protect what they think is theirs. Even when they want it for all the wrong reasons or never really wanted it to begin with. I did. I knew what lengths a woman like Laoghaire would go. With horror, I watched as she played the first card...

She placed her hand on her belly, reminding him she was pregnant. I watched as Jamie stood resolve. Shook his head _No_. I heard the name Joseph Boswell Murray when Murtagh chimed in and the look of shock that came over Jenny and Ian's faces. Jenny grabbed Laoghaire's shoulder and shook it as they spoke and Laoghaire lowered her head and nodded it slightly. So the rumors of Laoghaire being pregnant were true and Jamie was not the father, this Joseph Murray was.

Laoghaire fell to her knees at Jamie's feet, wrapping her arms around his ankles. Sobbing. Wailing. Begging. Then finally pleading. Jamie squatted, grabbed Laoghaire by the shoulders and broke her grip on his legs. He was determined. She tried to kiss him but he extended his arms, pulled back and shook his head firmly as I watched his mouth repeat _No._

The finally card, or rather cards, were played. As if on queue, Laoghaire's two daughters came running out. The older, Marsali, ran to her mother, embracing her to her young chest in comfort and support, glaring at Jamie. The younger, Joan, ran to Jamie and threw herself into his arms. Sobbing. Jamie picked her up and held her to his chest as he stood and walked away with her in his arms. I'm sure he whispered comfort to her tiny ears. In horror I watched as she peeked over Jamie's shoulder and smiled at her mother. And my hand flew to my mouth as I watched her mother smile back.

My mind went blank as I moved. I don't remember how I got there. I don't remember if anyone said anything or even tried to stop me. There was suddenly a car horn blaring, waking me from my stupor. I found myself standing in the street. The car must have slammed on its breaks, it's bumper was less than a yard from me and it's driver clearly upset, rudely gesturing at me. I could only look blankly at the driver and blink.

Jamie led me back to the sidewalk. He held me by both shoulders, anger on his facial features as his mouth moved without producing any words.

I blinked again.

His face changed to one of concern. His mouth still but I heard no words. He turned away from the road, more soundless words from his mouth. I followed his gaze. Laoghaire was coming down the stairs holding Marsali's hand, with Murtagh following closely behind, carrying Joan, as well as Jenny and Ian and then Dougal MacKenzie, from out of nowhere appeared. This would not end well for me.

I blinked as I watched this family feud unfold in front of me, started because of me. I blinked again as everyone's mouths were moving. Everyone's arms and hands were flailing. Everyone's features and gestures so angry. I blinked again as I scanned the group, resting on each face for a moment before moving to the next. Jamie. Murtagh. Dougal and Jenny. All in a circle, angrily discussing. Ian. Laoghaire... and our eyes locked. I couldn't look away. Such venom and maliciousness. I was clearly not her favorite person right now. I think I could safely say, I would never be. She moved away from the collective, toward me. I moved backward, matching her step for step. I almost fell as I found myself on the edge of the curb and stopped. She climbed right into my face. Her mouth moving, but I could not hear a word she said. I could tell they were poisonous and bitter. I could feel their heat and feel their force. Suddenly she pushed me; two hands on my shoulders and shoved.

I stumbled as I fell off the curb into the 'loading-unloading only' bricked area. I uttered not a sound as I collected myself and stood up. Jamie. I saw Jamie look at me then at Laoghaire. His face was upset and he was saying something... to me or to her, I was unclear. As she came at me again, charging, like a bull, with fury in her face. Jamie leapt for her, grabbing for her. I'm sure she was screaming but I heard nothing she as knocked me harder this time. I fell backwards, almost on my ass. It took several steps, backwards, flaying my arms and crouching into a squat for me to find my balance and center myself. I looked up to see Murtagh grab Laoghaire as Jamie shoved her to him and then moved toward me, reaching for me. I unfolded from the crouch I ended in and straightened myself. I smiled at him. I was fine. I turned to see the panic on the driver's face as the bus slammed into me.


	10. Chpter 9: Ride To Hospital

Marriage Material - Chapter 9 Ride to Hospital

Jamie POV

"No. No. No." That's all I kept muttering as I sat in the back of the Emergency Vehicle. I was terrified to touch her; Claire looked so pale and frail just lying there, so still. Her eyes had not opened since she made contact with the bus and had not moved a muscle, no matter how I begged, pleaded or prayed. The police arrived swiftly, managed the traffic and backed the bus up to allow the transport techs access to Claire. They had placed an elaborate cervical collar on her before they rolled her onto the backboard. Her entire head and neck, to her shoulders, was encased in this bright orange contraption with straps running across her forehead and chin. Add the oxygen mask and I could hardly see her face. The backboard placed her in additional straps across her torso, arms and legs, securing her to the flat, hard, unforgiving surface. So important to prevent her from moving, not that she was trying to, until they ken the extent of the damage. I ken they were worried about head and neck injuries but the back board meant possible spinal injuries as well. I shuddered at the thought. An oxygen mask was placed on her to help her make the most of her breathing, the tech explained. I needed to touch her, to let her ken I was here with her; to remind her she was no alone. I tried to hold Claire's hand but the tech took it from me to place the IV line. On her other hand they had placed some white clip on her index finger, a pulse oximeter the tech had called it when I demanded to ken what they were doing to her. He explained it measured the oxygen level in her blood and took her pulse. They packed a BP cuff, on her arm as well, that automatically took her blood pressure every few minutes.

I needed to feel her, to remind myself that she was alive, still with me. Touching her would give me that. Sassenach was mine now. To keep. To hold. To protect. I dinna ken where I could, without hurting her. I finally settled on one of the few exposed areas of skin available to me, her wrist. I brushed the the soft part, near the pad of her palm with my fingers. Stroking her. "Wake up Sassenach, please. Look at me," I begged as I watched her face for any signs of life. I'd give anythi'n to see those whisky eyes look'n at me again. A movement startled me. I felt her fingers flicker in response. I watched as they twitched beside my stroking fingers.

I looked up and saw the tech had noticed as well.

"That's a good sign, aye? She moved her fingers when I touched her" my eyes desperately looked at him for anything, any kind of sign that he thought she'd be alright. A miracle, I needed a miracle.

The tech made no reply and went back to what he was doing, monitoring vitals and writing obscure things down.

I continued to move my fingers slowly across the inside of her wrist and her fingers responded. It meant she was still aware somewhere in the recesses of her brain, even if she could'na speak to me right now and I needed that constant reminder. I leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head and whispered to her, "Tha mi an seo mo ghraidh. Tha mi ceart an seo. Feuch, fanibh còmhla fium. Tha uiread de dh 'fheumainn innse dhuibh, mo chridhe". _(I'm here my love. I'm right here. Please, stay with me. There's so much I need to tell ye my heart)_

Her fingers waved at my declarations of love. I ken she was tell'n me she heard me and was trying to let me know she would find her way back to me. To wait for her. My Claire was lost in the dark and I needed to be her beacon to find the way back into my arms.

"Aye, lass. I'm here. Watch'n over ye. I will'na leave ye side. Do'na worry. There's the two of us now, Sassenach" and I stroked her wrist again. My heart fluttered every time her fingers flickered.

I looked back at the tech. For answers. For help. For hope. For anything...

The tech sighed and gave me a bread crumb. "Look, I'm not a doctor, ok? She was hit by a bus, mate. Not a good thing. For anyone. She's not conscious but she's not convulsing or vomiting. There's no bleeding from her ears or nose. Her pupils are equal and reactive. These are good things." and the tech gave me a forced smile. "We are only a couple of minutes from hospital. We've radioed ahead; they know we are coming. They will have a team ready for her. Dr. Beauchamp is in good hands."

My eyes jumped opened with surprise, at the reminder. The tech ken'd Claire. Suddenly I realized, of course they would. Why wouldn't they, she dealt with them daily. She ken them all by name most likely. It made perfect sense. Her friends and peers would have all heard about the accident, they would be there. Waiting. At hospital to help. She would receive the best possible care. They would fix everything, make everything right. They would give Claire back to me.

"Fuireach còmhla rium, Sassenach. Chuala tu an teicneòlas, ta sinn cha mhòr san ospadal. Joe. Bidh Joe a 'riaghladh seo dhuinn." _(Stay with me, Sassenach. You heard the tech, we're almost at hospital. Joe. Joe will manage this for us)_ I slipped my hand under hers, letting her fingers dance on my palm and mine dance on hers. My heart unclenched just a little.

I closed my eyes. I could clearly see the look on Laoghaire's face as she screamed "He's mine, Witch". The evil thing managed to circumvent my grasp and hit Claire a second time in the chest using both hands, her full body weigh and adrenaline behind it. The force sent Claire stumbling backwards. Before either I or Murtagh could get close enough to grab one of Claire's flaying arms, she fell backwards into the street.

I'm not sure how Claire managed it, but somehow she kept her feet under her. Kept her balance and remained upright. She came to a stop in the middle of a lane of oncoming traffic. That alone, might have saved her life. The bus hit her broad side, knocking her sideways to the ground, in line with the bus. It had come to a stop completely over her. If she had lost her balance, and fallen backwards to the ground, she would have landed across the lane of traffic. The wheels would have run right over her, crushing her.

One heartbeat she was standing, smiling at me. The next beat she was gone. The bus' windshield had been cracked, smeared with her blood, her soft, brown curls caught in the broken glass. A head wound was not good. Even I ken that. I absentmindedly twirled a curl of her hair around my finger. I bent to smell it. The faint smell of lilac was still there. I inhaled deeply, holding the scent inside me for as long as I could.

The clicking sound of the van doors as they flew open snapped me from my thoughts and I exhaled. So deep in contemplation, I had not noticed the van had come to a halt. It took my eyes a second to focus on the faces looking into the van. I did no recognize any of them. "Joe? Where's Joe? Joe Abernathy. Claire will want Joe" I stated, not that anyone seemed to be listening. There was a great deal of commotion as a group of people in scrubs focused their attention on Claire laying prone on the gurney and the vital information the tech was calling out to them.

"We need you to step back, sir," someone on the ground outside the transport said. "Let us get Dr. Beauchamp out of the van. She is the priority." The tech extended his arm to hold me back out of the way. I moved toward the front of the van, to get as far out of the way as my large frame would allow. I was hunched over and stuffed in a corner up against the cab of the vehicle.

In no time, they had her gurney unlock, out and wheeling in through the emergency doors. Bad enough I had to let go of her hand, I was not going to be left behind, stuffed in a corner of the transport. I jumped out and followed Claire, squeezing through the doors right behind them. I told her I would no' leave her side and damn it, I meant it. We had finally straightened things out. Talked and spoken our truths. I was no' going to loose her now.

I followed them down the hall, jogging to just keep the gurney in sight. The tech recited her vitals and the accident details to the doctors as they moved quickly down the hall. Suddenly the entourage turned 90 degrees and entered an empty treatment room. A body, in scrubs, turned and held out a hand only inches from my chest, preventing me from following.

"You can not come in here. You'll need to have a seat in the waiting area, sir," a smallish young man in scrubs commanded. "Please. You need to leave so we can do our job. Someone will come find you when we have answers."

"Joe, Joe Abernathy. She'll want Joe. Where is he?" my eyes frantically searched for him in the room the man was preventing me from entering. My eyes settled on a face I recognized from Ian's time here.

"Major" she said. "Major Fraser, right? I'm Doctor Campbell, one of Doctor Beauchamp's associates."

I nodded and tried to pass her, to enter the room that held my Claire. The room was bathed in clean, white light and smelled sterile and cold. Claire would need me in there, to remind her. To remind her no' to leave me.

"Major" she said more forcefully. "Please, we need to do our jobs, to _**help**_ _**Claire**_. Do you understand? We can not do that with you in the room. You need to go with this orderly. He will take you to the waiting area. As soon as I know anything, I will come find you." She looked me sternly in the eye. "I need you to help Claire now and do as I ask. I will find you as soon as we have her stabilized and know anything. I promise. Now, please leave" and she was gone. Behind the doors with Claire. Where they would not let me follow.

The orderly grabbed my arm. I jerked it from his grasp and glared at him, daring him to touch me again. "I'll go. Lead the way." I touched the door that lay between Claire and I, one last time, silently repeating a prayer of hope, and followed the orderly to the waiting area. My stomach knotted with fear and my heart beating frantically without hope.

The room the orderly led me to was bright, large and full of people. I found an uncomfortable, plastic chair in the corner. I removed my coat and tie, folding them on my lap as I sat down in the chair. I rested my head in my hands and closed my eyes. I prayed. Like I had never prayed before _._

I played the accident over again and again in my head. Trying to figure out what happened and what I could have done differently, that might have changed the outcome. Damn Laoghaire. I could have throttled her. What was she even doing at the church? I had gone to her the morning after the stag party, sober, clean and clear heided thanks to Ian and Murtagh. I told Laoghaire, in no uncertain terms, that I was sorry but I could no' marry her. That I had fallen hopelessly in love with Claire and that she was the woman I was going to marry, if she'd have me. I explained that the night of my uncle's dinner party, I had realized how attracted I was to Claire and that I had tried to put my feelings for her aside; to honor our engagement and focus only on her and the wee lasses. For almost two months I tried and found that I could'na forget what I felt for Claire and I was done pretending. I apologized profusely but I realized I could no longer, in good conscience, marry her, not even for the sake of Joan and Marsali. I tried to explain to Laoghaire that she and I would never have worked; the marriage was doomed from the start, never would have lasted. I told her I was to blame for the entire débâcle. I could not, would not give Claire up and would be unable to go through with the wedding. I would go to the church, explain everything to the guests and take full responsibility. I also told the girls I would come back and speak with them when they were ready to see me, if they wished. I asked Laoghaire to try and find a way to forgive me, if she could, and I wished her well before I left.

True to form, Laoghaire had gotten angry, defiant even. She yelled, screamed, stamped her feet and pounded my chest with her fist. Then when that did no' move me to recant my declarations, she sobbed, cried and wailed. She threw herself at my feet and clung to my legs, begging me no' to jilt her for another, to love only her. Finally, she called the wee lasses; she ken I adored them both. They had won my heart long before their mother ever did. I remained strong and true to Claire and told her she could keep the ring we had picked out together, just days before. After everyone had congratulated us, Laoghaire had given me back my mam's ring. Said she wanted the one she and I had selected two weeks ago. She did no' want the _'aulde, used one_. The new ring, Laoghaire had thrown it at me just before she ran up the stairs in tears. Marsali scampering up after her, giving me the most hateful of looks before she left. Joan, sweet wee thing, ran to me and hugged me tightly, then followed her sister upstairs to their mam. I had let myself out, leaving the ring on the table by the door. It was hers, after all.

That left what to do about Claire still up in the air. She was no' returning any of my calls or texts since she'd walked away from an inebriated me at the stag party, head held high. Such a braw lass, my Claire. Ian, Murtagh and I all tried to reach her. A multitude of times. Hell, I even had Rupert, Angus and even Willie try on my behalf, that's how desperate I was. Murtagh came up with the idea. He said Claire would no' be able to stay away, that she would be drawn to the church today to lay witness to the nuptials. To watch as I gave myself to Laoghaire, body and soul, until death us do part. So we devised a plan... we needed to give Claire a wedding in which to attend. We needed to act like nothing had changed. The only difference was, there would be no bride. And when Claire showed herself, I would be able to explain everything. Declare my true feeling and fix the mess I had allowed my uncle to make of my life. Murtagh said he would bet a bottle of Laphroaig Quarter Cask on Claire coming today, and my godfather does'na bet good libations unless he kens he's gonna win. There was no way Claire wouldn't come, he had been that sure. And he was right. About everything except no' bride. Laoghaire had arrived, dressed to be wedded, just as Claire and I had finally righted things. How that wee beastie had heard about the wedding being a trap for Claire, I had no' figured out, but I was think'n a conversation with my piuthar _(sister)_ would no' go amiss. None of us, Ian, Murtagh or I, expected Laoghaire to show, let alone pretend like I'd never called the whole thing off the day before.

Ian said he would speak to the guests, with Jenny's help. Mrs. Fitz and my Uncle would see to Laoghaire and her daughters. I knew I would need to talk to wee Joan and Marsali. They were innocents caught in the crossfire; my one regret. They pined so for a da and to see their mam happy but I had to follow my heart. They had heard some of why I could'na marry their mam, that my path lie with Claire, but I needed to sit down with them, to explain and answer their questions. I did no expect the lasses to understand or be happy for me, but they needed to hear the truth of it, no' just what their mam told them or what they overheard.

I sighed. Now, I might verra well have lost Claire forever.

XXCEBXX

 _My Da had said I would ken the right woman, when I met her. I'd take one look and I'd just ken. I think the trouble with that statement is yer eyes have te be open in order te see her. Mine weren't. At 34, I had given up think'n I'd ever find her. I'd stopped look'n._

 _I did no' much care for the good Doctor Beauchamp when I first met her. When I arrived at hospital, Jenny had told me all about the Bossy English Doctor and how she had already called Uncle Dougal to have him intercede on Ian's behalf. So when the doctor came in to speak to Jenny, post surgery, the surprise was that I had been expecting a male doctor, and he turned out to be a she, with the most piercing whisky colored eyes I'd ever seen. I did'na give her much thought past that at first. I was too busy worry'n and look'n out for Jen and Ian te notice or care much about Doctor Beauchamp and her amazing eyes. She was no' my usual type anyhow. I was in the market for a wife, no' a friend, or a partner or an equal. It took Claire to show me the difference and their importance. I had always been attracted to younger lasses, blondes preferably and I liked them petite and with blue eyes. Brògan mòra (large breasts) were a bonus, but not necessary. Claire made me realize what an asset a great arse could be. The blondes I dated always had the same set of goals - to get married,_ _raise bairn, te tend te the house and have my supper wait'n for me when I came home. Like Tabby, my Uncle's daughter, while I was in secondary school; Annalise while I was in university, though I found out the hard way she could'na cook; Geneva after Uni, while I was trying to find what to do with my life; and Laoghaire, when I started my military career. She came with a ready-made family in Joan and Marsali, but always said she wanted more bairn; she would give me a son, she'd always insisted. Each lass, single mindedly, wanted whatever I wanted, no thought for anything grander than to be Mrs. James Fraser. A tall, dark haired, intelligent, career driven, independent thinking doctor was never part of that plan. And 'aulder to boot. Not even close._

 _Murtagh was the first to really notice Claire and bring her uniqueness to my attention. He would mention her now and again on our trips to and from hospital as we drove Jenny home or checked on Ian. My godfather was always repeating some profound something or other Claire'd said when they had last conversed. When had they talked, was I no' in the same room? I was stand'n there, when Dr. Beauchamp made her rounds and checked on Ian. I never heard her say any such things Murtagh was repeat'n. Then I noticed Murtagh had a routine. He was going down to the café to fetch Jen a cup of coffee every day, at about the same time. He was take'n longer and longer te bring it back as weel and t'was cold half the time. So I accompanied him the next time and discovered the 'aulde goat had been meeting up with the Sassenach Doctor the whole time. I should have ken, my godfather does'na even drink coffee. They had clearly formed a tight friendship and I was certainly the odd man out that day. I ken it was no more than a friendship on Murtagh's end but Claire, perhaps the woman cared more for my godfather more than she let on. There were several comments she made that put Murtagh in the preferred acquaintance category for sure. For some strange reason, that thought did'na sit well with me. If truth be told, the thought that she find anyone else's conversations interesting, really struck me in the gut. I found I did'na like the idea of it at all. When I spoke te Murtagh about Claire, he had laughed and called me jealous. Jealous? Me? Of someone conversing with Claire? Hrrumph._

XXCEBXX

I smiled at the memory and adjusted myself in the god awful plastic chair. Where was the damn doctor? I snorted, leaned against the wall and closed my eyes again.

XXCEBXX

 _It was'na until the Soiree that I formed an attachment and fell in love with her. What male was'na trip'n over themselves for a chance te be near her that night? My Uncle for one, some English Lieutenant for another, Rupert, Angus sit'n next to her at dinner and Willie, damn fresh lad, danced with her. Made her laugh too. Had his arms around her, twirling her..._

 _I will never forget how she took my breath away when I saw her from behind in that green gown. Her beautiful, naked back, porcelain skin and that bonnie round arse. I could'na keep my hands from her. And there was that spark every time my hand touched her back; the connection I ken we both felt, sending shivers down my arm and her spine. I had te have her in my life. Claire woke somethi'n in me that night, made me feel alive for the first time. So bonnie, and smart. Always arguing her opinion, never just agree'n with anyone. It was infuriating and unique and spirited all at the same time. So canty. So Claire. For the life of me I do'na ken how I thought I could spend another minute with Laoghaire after spending those three hours just talking with my Sassenach. I was so jealous of Donas as he gently nibbled on her shoulder while we talked. I ken she was meant for me when that devil horse was tamed by her. I did'na want to share her with anyone after that and by the end of the night she was'na even talk'n to me._

 _My uncle made his announcement. Payback for take'n Claire from him earlier, I was sure. Claire left before I had a chance to explain myself and she would'na see me when I went by hospital te speak te her. Always in surgery, or on rounds or no' on shift. I finally figured away around all that. I went te my Uncle Dougal and mentioned what a great addition to the team it would be to have a fine doctor like Claire on board; at least during our training's, out in middle of nowhere in the highlands as we usually were. She was military trained... she could ride with us, triage as needed. The next time I was summoned to my Uncle's office, I cruised down the hall of the Administration Building and saw several of the various team members lean'n against the wall outside the infirmary. One hold'n an arm, like 'tws broken, one had a wee scratch on his cheek, another looked just fine but managed te groan like he was in pain, purely for my benefit, I was sure. I looked in through the door to see Rupert on the doctor's exam table._

" _Rupert! What the hell are ye do'n in infirmary? Are ye hurt?" I barked as I approached._

 _The doctor glanced up from their work. I found myself look'n into that fine pair of whiskey colored eyes and nest full of crazy, brown curls._

 _I smiled. That explained the line of "injured" men._

 _Those eyes settled on me, narrowing at the sight of me, then immediately darkened to a burnt amber. Without so much as a 'how do ye do', she turned her back on me and continued to clean Rupert's basically, uninjured hand._

" _Sassenach?" I said without thinking._

 _No response._

" _What are ye do'n here lass?"_

 _No response._

" _Dr. Beauchamp's the new doc, Jamie." Rupert replied, "At least on weekends and field trainings." He said even though no one was talk'n te him. "She's fix'n my hand," he added with a sheepish grin on his face as he wiggled his fingers as if to prove his injury. "My wrist is sore." He declared openly. At least he had the decency to blush. That hand was no' injured, no' from anything he'd done here today anyway. He might have hurt it last night pleasuring himself... and I raised my eyebrow to indicate that to him. He'd come to see Claire. My Claire. I gave him a glare and he waggled his eyebrows at me in response, unseen by Claire as she was focused on her work. "Angus just left" Rupert added. His face expressed the sheer joy of being able to stick it to me._

" _I will speak te ye later." I almost made it a command and left. "Each of ye better have a legitimate reason te see the doctor or there will be hell te pay..." I said to each of men waiting in the hall as I stomped away._

 _Rupert and Claire both watched me as I turned and left, unsure which of them was going to be unlucky enough to have a conversation with me later._

XXCEBXX

Suddenly my shoulder was being shaken and "... Jamie... Jamie lad... " I looked up to see Murtagh look'n at me. Jenny and Ian right there with 'em. "How's the lass?" His worry and concern was clear.

I shook my head to clear it and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hands. "I do'na ken. They would'na let me stay with her, Murtagh." I spoke with a bit of defeat in my voice. "She needs me... she was so pale and still. She can'na die..." I told them as my voice wobbled when I spoke. "They told me te wait here, that someone would come talk to me when they ken anythi'n." I stood. "I'll go ask," and I walked toward the admittance desk. No sooner had I taken a couple of step than the double doors to the A&E swung open and Dr. Campbell walked out with a somber look to her face. I stopped as she scanned the waiting area before her eyes found me. Dr. Campbell's lips tightened into a straight line and she blinked slowly, closing then opening her eyes as if she needed a moment to gather her thoughts.

I must have made some kind of noise, though I do'na remember doing so, for my family was at my side in a flash. Jenny put her arms around me, as if her wee body could support me if I suddenly became faint. Dr. Campbell motioned for me to follow her back through the double door and we, Jenny, Ian, Murtagh and I, all moved forward as a undivided being, arms around each other, hands touching; a single connected unit. No one was going to let go of the other and Dr. Campbell assessed that. She smiled a bit at the sight of us. She pushed aside a drape and admitted us into an empty exam room. None of us let go of each other even after Dr. Campbell sat down on an exam stool and motioned to the two empty chairs for any of us to sit upon.

"I think we'll stand," Murtagh answered for me.

I opened my mouth to ask, but closed it in fear of the answer. I opened it again and closed it as I shook my head from side to side.

"Claire... How's Claire, Doctor?" Jenny managed to ask for me.

The doctor rose and crossed to us. She stood directly in front of me. I had not realized, until this very moment, just how small the doctor was.

I had been trained to deal calmly in situations like this, where the air is electrified with tension and emotion, people close to panic. To remain level heided, calm and distant. I was anything but that right now. I moaned the moment the doctor moved and closed my eyes. I could not look at her. I did'na want to ken what she was go'na say. "Please no, God," I whispered and felt my legs tremble underneath me. Some soldier, leader of men, I was turning out to be.

Two hands firmly grabbed my shoulders and I opened my eyes to see Dr. Campbell's eyes filled with concern and sympathy. "Claire's alive, Major..."

 _Woosh_ as my lungs exhaled the breath I had been holding. I leaned on Murtagh while my legs shook. My worst fears gone. Claire was alive.

"... I just wanted to take a moment to speak to you." Dr. Campbell scanned our faces.

We all froze, not moving or breathing or blinking... waiting for her next pronouncement. _Alive... but..._ I thought to myself. Our eyes followed her as she leaned back and sat on the edge of the exam table, folding her arms across her chest. "Claire remains unconscious. We have her stabilized. We have done a CT Scan to look for any bleeding in the brain. We have done a Bone Scan to check for broken bones. We are waiting for those results. It's not unusual for a head injury like hers for the unconsciousness to continue for a short term. We will know more when the scan results come back. We have placed an IV line in, giving her fluids and we have intubated her to aid in her breathing. We have the neck brace still in place. We are going to keep her down here until I have the test results back and the see if surgery is necessary or if we can move her upstairs to ICU." She paused and looked at me. "Are you, ok?" she asked. "You're pretty pale. You look like you need to sit down..." She stepped forward and placed her hand lightly on my arm.

"No," I managed to mumble. "I'll be alright." I took a deep breath. "I need to see her Doctor Campbell. Please" I said as my voice cracked. "She needs me. 'Tis just that I promised I would'na leave her..."

"Look," Dr. Campbell said. "It is important Claire remain calm. Not be upset. At all. You understand." Her eyes scanned my face, looking for something. I knew not what. Then she scanned all of us from head to toe...

I closed my eyes.

"Don't you have a wedding you need to be at?" She asked me. "I seem to be looking at four people that need to be somewhere else right now."

I hissed. "Joe." I barked. "Joe Abernathy. I need to speak to Joe Abernathy, please." I tried to sound authoritative with my demand but I am sure my stature did not support the tone. Especially when the four of us could'na let go of each other; we needed the combined support to remain standing.

Dr. Campbell straightened and cleared her throat. "Look, my concern is for my patient. My patient, _and friend_ , Dr. Beauchamp," she clarified. "The last time I spoke to her was maybe six hours ago and you two were definitely not friends, Major. I shouldn't even be talking to you about her except Claire still has you and Captain Fraser listed as next of kin," nodding her head at Murtagh. She stared hard at me. "You are getting married today, Major. I can clearly see that has not changed; no question that you four are dressed for a wedding." She took a deep breath. "Major Fraser, you've done your duty. You accompanied Claire safely to the hospital. Alive. Let us take it from here." She placed her hand on my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You go, get yourself married, don't leave your bride waiting. Leave Claire with me. In peace." She looked me in the face, with a kindness in her eyes. "We'll take it from here," she said firmly and walked away.

That's all. Conversation over. She was dismissing me, just like that. "No" I howled. "Please," I pleaded, as I unattached myself from my collective, and moved to catch her. As I entered the hall, a nurse approached Dr. Campbell. The nurse's eyes were wide with need. "Dr. Beauchamp. She's fighting the breathing tube," and swiftly walked away. Dr. Campbell followed close behind and I followed the both of them in hot pursuit.

I stopped in the doorway of a room, crowded with people. Claire was in the middle of the room, flat on her back, having been transferred from the gurney to a bed. The back board and neck brace still in place only instead of an oxygen mask, she had a tube in her mouth. She was struggling, trying to move her arms and legs. Making gurgling, gagging noises. Doctor Campbell was barking orders. "Get this..., cut that..., get her out of that... come on people move!"

Suddenly there was an opening on one side of the bed and I slipped in, as much as a man of my size can slip in unnoticed. I grabbed the rail of the bed and bend over so my mouth was right up next to her ear if that 'ifrinn orange foam weren't in the way. "Claire." I said in a firm whisper. "Sassenach. Tha mi an seo. Ceart an seo." as I found her hand. _(Sassenach. I'm here. Right here)_ Maybe she did not relax completely, but she instantly stopped struggling and fighting the machine. Her fingers danced in my hand. "Is e sin mo nighean. Breathe. Tha mi gad ghràdh le mo chridhe uile" _(that's my girl. Breathe. I love you with all of my heart)._

Someone grabbed me. I tried to shake their hold on me. I wanted to fight them off. Could have, if I had the room. But I was afraid of knocking a machine or jarring Claire or the bed. So I released her willingly, and moved away, my hands up in the air. Palms out to physically indicate that I would not struggle or fight them. The moment my hand slid from hers, Claire began to tremble, slowly at first but the movement built up until by the time they had escorted me to the door, she was fully agitated again and fighting the breathing machine. Doctor Campbell looked me straight in the eye and said "Alright Major, looks like you win. Someone get him a stool to sit on. He stays, _For Now,_ " She added. "But, if I tell you to leave, you leave the room, no questions asked. Do you understand Major?" Her fierce look bore a hole in my chest.

I nodded complacently. I had won the round. I could keep my promise to Claire and stay with her. "Sshhhush Sassenach. Tha mi an seo. Tha gaol agam ort. Fois." _(I am here. I love you. Rest)._ I spoke to the orange foam. I picked up her smooth, white hand gently and nestled it in my calloused brown paw. I placed a soft kiss on her open palm and laid it to rest against my cheek and sighed with contentment as her fingers moved like a caress on my cheek. We would get through this, she and I, together.

XXXCEBXXX

I watched out the window of Claire's ICU room as the night began to lift into a new day. The sky was a myriad of color: yellows, oranges and hints of red being devoured by a bright blue dotted with pillows of white. It looked to be a glorious day. My heart filled with such hope, it swelled. I sat, as I had most of the night, my hand resting on the pillow at the top of her head, gently twirling her curls. She was no' wear'n one of those new designer hospital gowns; they had her in one of the old, flash yer buttocks, johnny's. It was just laying open, not tied in the back and the neck pulled down almost show'n the top of her breasts, no better than a sheet, with arms maybe. I ken she would no' like it much. The back board was gone, but the collar remained, though they had taken the large orange one off and replaced it with a smaller, tan one that only encased her lovely neck. The scan did not show any spinal injury, but they were not taking any chances. Claire would remain tethered to monitors by a multitude of wires and tubes, until she awoke. The intubation tube was still in place, taped to her mouth now; the machine helping her breath. Her head was bandaged, swathed in white strips to protect the eight stitches needed to close the head wound. I watched with great sadness as they'd shaved some of her lovely curls to clean the wound. I ken the hair would grow back, but it was difficult to watch them place the stitches. Nothing to be done about it. All her physical injuries would heal, completely. Now, if she would only open her eyes and look at me. Her left arm was in a cast; it had been broken when the bus struck her. A clean break, not complicated to set Dr. Campbell said. They moved her IV to her other hand, the arm of which I was carefully stroking. She had an assortment of cuts and scrapes, including some on her face, as the force of the bus knocked her hard enough to send her sliding twenty yards down the asphalt, before it stopped, on top of her. She would be a mass of bruises as well. All sorts of blacks, blues and purples would cover her body by tomorrow. Her clothes were ripped to shreds and the doctors cut them off her in emergency. Her phone was strapped to her bicep and completely smashed when the bus made impact. The only things left unscathed were her running shoes, which I set on the floor beside me.

Murtagh snorted and adjusted his position in the reclining chair, settling himself again. Jenny and Ian left yesterday, saying they would be back again today. I told them to take care of the bairn, that Murtagh or I would call them with any news. I leaned in and whispered in my Sassenach's ear... "Feumaidh tu dùsgadh a-nis, mo chridhe, oir an-diush tha toiseach ar beatha còmhla" and I kissed her softly on her forehead. (Y _e need te wake now my heart, for today is the beginning of our life together)_ I leaned on the bed rail and close my eyes for a moment...


	11. Chptr 10: Ospadal (Hospital)

Marriage Material – Chapter 10 Ospadal _(Hospital)_

Claire POV

"Claire, lass, are you ok? Can ya hear me?" a voice asked with a strange, almost scared pitch to it. My eyes flickered open and immediately shut. Too bright. Everything hurt from my head to my toes. I opened my eyes again and promptly close them. I tried to roll my head to the side. It made me dizzy to move.

"She's awake," the same tenor voice said with what sounds like relief in his voice. "Stay with the lass, I'll go and fetch the doctor, aye? I'll be right back."

"Thanks," a second voice replied. He spoke with richness and texture in his baritone voice and wonderful Scottish lilt that made my heart flutter. So lovey to listen to. Like music to my ears. "Sassenach, you're awake," and I felt a warm, hand gently caress my cheek. "I saw the bus... I was so scared 'fer ye... thought I'd lost ya... you're at hospital... No' Joe, they said he went to Boston... but Dr. Campbell says you'll be fine... concussion and a broken arm... they'll have to put ye in a cast, for six weeks most likely... " and then I had to stop the voice from speaking. My head was killing me. I squeezed my eyes tightly together and tried to wave my hand, but I could not seem to feel them, move them. I must have waved my fingers for I feel a hand grab them. I was so dizzy... that's the last thing I remembered.

XXCEBXX

I opened one eye and stare at the vision in front of me... A Red Headed, Blue Eyed, Nordic God, looking right at me. Jamie. I closed my eye and tried to lift an hand to my face. My left, I seemed to be able to wiggle my finger and that sent excruciating pains up my arm. My right arm felt like lead. I could feel the IV in the back of the hand yet still managed to move it, so that it now rested on my chest. An herculean effort that exhausted me. The baritone voice stroked my arm. His fingers gentle, soft and warm... "Yer awake Sassenach." followed by a gentle kiss placed on my brow.

I blinked. I started to answer when I realized I'd been intubated, a breathing tube had been inserted down my esophagus. Why? I closed my eyes to squelch my urge to fight it. I concentrated on letting the machine do the work, willing my body to quiet. Don't fight the machine, I told myself. Relax. Let it do the breathing. My eyes still closed, I lifted my finger to my mouth and hoped someone would realize what I needed; that someone would understand I needed the _'ifrinn_ intubation tube removed.

What I heard was confusion... multiple voices all talking at once. I opened one eye to see a cluster of people enter my vision. So much noise. So loud. My head was spinning, my vision blurred. I squeezed the open eye shut trying to block out the noise and gather my equilibrium. A woman's voice spoke. "Claire," she said. "It's me, Doctor Campbell. Can you open your eyes for me?" I opened the one eye again to see a woman with short black hair and black eyes looking as me while relief washed over her face. "It's nice to have you with us," she said with a smile. "We've been a little worried about you. I'm going to take the breathing tube out, in just a minute... that will allow you to speak. Do you understand me?"

I nodded my head, carefully.

"Good" She said and walked away. I closed my eyes again.

"Oh God Claire. I have never been so glad to see those whisky eyes as I am right now. Ye had me so scare't. Everything's gonna be alright, mo chridhe." My baritone voice said to me. I felt his rather large, rough hand cup my face and the feather touch of a rather coarse thumb as it stroked my cheek. Without thought, I leaned into the comforting gesture. The hand was gentle and careful, like I was made of glass. The touch felt very erotic and made my stomach flip-flop. But then my husband's touch always had that effect on me.

Suddenly, the hand was gone. The Doctor, with her entourage of nurses and aides, returned. I didn't even need to open my eyes to know it. Someone lowered the bed to a supine position and a nurse suctioned my oropharynx dry. I felt the Doctor check the pilot balloon on the ETT for some play, making sure it wasn't too tight, then gently, smoothly, slipped the tube from my esophagus . I coughed several times and then attempted to swallow. My hand immediately went to my neck. I removed the neck brace and dropped on the floor. I lifted my chin, stretched my neck and I stroked the length of it, several times. When I opened my eyes, I immediately locked eyes with Jamie, standing at the foot of my bed. He was watching my hand as it stroked my neck, his eyes turning a darker blue with each stroke. He sucked in his bottom lip and bit it, softly.

The look on his face made me moan, softly.

He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment. I felt a large, strong hand find my foot under the sheet and begin to caress it; that same rough, hard thumb rubbing my instep, light fingers working my ankle.

I licked my lips and sighed as I closed my eyes. I wanted him. Badly.

Suddenly I heard a hard thump. Like a rock hitting a brick wall. "What?" I heard Jamie ask with surprise.

"Yoo ken." the tenor replied. "You and the lass make'n _goo-goo eyes_ and moan'n at each other, already. In a room full of people ta boot. Behave and let Doctor Campbell have a look. Geeze," he said and ended with a snort.

I opened my eyes. My father's face smiled back at me as he patted my other foot.

I wiggled my toes in reply.

The room was crowded with people. "Sgiobair deigh leam" _(ice chips, please),_ I managed to croak. No one seemed to pay attention except Murtagh. When I spoke, my father stopped listening to the discussion going on over my bed, and acknowledged my request by looking at me with his head cocked slightly.

"Uisge no deigh, Claire?" He asked. _(water or ice)_

"Deigh" I repeated then coughed, trying to clear my throat and swallow.

"Aye lass." My father said and patted my foot once more. He turned to a nurse and repeated my request. She nodded her head and left the room. He placed a hand on his godson's shoulder and they spoke, softly to one another. In the middle of a sentence, Jamie blinked at me, then raised an eyebrow and smiled. I melted, in response, into a little puddle of lust.

I returned it with a weak one of my own. God, my head hurt. I closed my eyes again. The room was so bright. Why was everyone shouting? "Cuiribh" I said. (whisper) The talking stopped. Thank Bonnie Prince Charlie.

"Claire, it's me, Nancy Campbell. Could you open your eyes for me, please?"

"Na solais a leòn mo shùilean," I told her. _(The light hurts my eyes)_.

"Gaidhlig, Claire?" My husband asked. "Tha thu a 'bruidhinn Gàidhlig?" _(You are speaking Gaelic?)_

"Ha, Ha." I laughed sarcastically. "Tha mi a 'bruidhinn Gàidhlig," I replied. ( _Yes, I speak Gaelic)_ "Gu dearbh tha mi a 'dèanamh, mar sin a bheil thu." (O _f course I do, so are you_ ) What other language would I speak, I thought to myself. We are Scots, after all. "Tha sinn ann an Alba tha?" I asked with one eye open and frustration in my voice. (W _e are in Scotland, yes?)_ Praise Bonnie Prince Charlie, what was my husband playing at? "Tha sin nar Frasers, nach eil sinn? Is e an dachaigh againn nache Lallybroch, an duine? Nach mise Thurach Broch Tuarach?" _(We are Frasers, are we not? Is our home not Lallybroch, husband? Am I not Lady Broch Tuarach?)_

"An duine aice?" O tha is mise a duine agad, mo bhean." He answered, ending in a smile that could light the world. ( _"Husband? Oh yes, I am your husband, my wife)_

My father made the most darivative of noises. He looked at my husband in complete disbelief then knocked him in the shoulder.

My co-worker, Dr. Campbell, shooed everyone out, pulling the screen closed around us. There was a great deal of discussion about whether my husband could stay but in the end, he was made to leave as well, but not before planting a lingering kiss on my lips

"Bidh mi dìreach a-muigh ma bhios feum agad orm Claire." _(I'll be right outside the curtain if ye need me, Claire)_ His hand rested on my cheek for a moment, giving it a gentle caress with his finger. He allowed the same hand to then brush down my arm as he walked away, almost gaving me an orgasam with that single motion. "Mùthaidhean" _(Wow)_ I whispered as he reached the curtain. "Feumaidh sinn cuid de naoidheanan a dhèanamh, mo chridhe." _(We need to make some babies, my heart)_

Jamie turned and looked at me. "Aye, mo chridhe, bidh sinn a 'dèanamh" He said with a smile. _(Yes, my heart, we do)_ It was the most personal of half smiles, like we'd just had carnal knowledge of each other and enjoyed it, greatly. He walked back with those darkening blue eyes fastened on my dull brown ones, rested his hands on the pillow on either side of my head and said, "Bidh sinn. Tha mi a 'gealltainn dhut sin. Chan eil ach ùine againn a-nis, Sassenach" and gently kissed me on the lips with such promise. _(We will. I promise you that. We have nothing but time now, Sassenach)_ It made my toes curl again. I rolled my head back into the pillow and sighed as he left behind the curtain. I checked out his ass as he walked away. Mighty fine. And _all_ mine.

The good doctor checked my chart, listened to my heart and breathing, poked me everywhere humanly possible and flashed a wicked light in my eyes. Questions, so many damn questions. Does this hurt? Does that? Follow my finger. Did it hurt to move my arm? I nodded _yea_ or _ney_ in reply to every question. Everything I moved hurt like 'ifrinn hell. Except for my lips. Where my husband had kissed me, I felt no pain.

"How many fingers am I holding up Claire?" Dr. Campbell asked with four fingers of her left hand in front of my face.

"Gu dearbh? Ceithir corragan Dotair." I stated and raised an eyebrow at her. ( _Really? Four fingers Doctor.)_

"Dè a tha ann am IV? Saline?" I asked. ( _What is in the IV?)._ A simple enough question for any doctor to answer. Dr. Campbell looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language.

She smiled at me and said, "I need to bring in one of your Gaelic speaking friends to translate, Claire. I do not speak or understand the language. I did not realize you did either. Would you mind?"

Tha cuiribh. Bu mhath leam bruidhinn ris an duine agam fhèin agus m'athair cuideachd. Tapadh leat," I said with a smile. ( _Yes please. I would like to speak to my husband and my father as well. Thank you). "_ Dh'fhaodadh agam rudeigin seo airson ceann goirt? Tha e gu math goirt." ( _Could I have something for this headache? It is very painful)._ I asked as I rubbed my temples.

"Just one minute, Claire, I'll be right back. Dr. Campbell opened the curtain to leave and my husband was standing right there and our eyes meet and we both smiled. Dr. Campbell could not get passed him if she'd wanted to. "Look, I need one of you two to translate what she's saying." I knew my father must be there as well.

Both of my men pushed passed the doctor and walked to the bed. Jamie carefully took hold of the hand with the IV. With his other hand he stroked my hair.

"Do you speak English, Claire?" Murtagh asked.

"Yes, father." I replied with a weak smile. "You taught me English."

Murtagh coughed.

Jamie snorted.

And a look of mirth was passed between them.

"Remind me why we speak Gàidhlig, Claire." Jamie asked.

"Bidh sinn an-còmhnaidh a 'bruidhinn a duine Gàidhlig. Is e an cànan dùthchasach againn." I replied while rolling my eyes at him. _(We always speak Gaelic husband. It is our native tongue)._ "A bheil sin carson a tha thu ag iarraidh orm Claire, seach Sorcha? Airson an t-Sasannach ann an Sasannach? _(Is that why you are calling me Claire, rather that Sorcha? For the English Doctor's sake?)._

My two men exchanged another look merriment and then Murtagh smiled. "Weel, could we converse in English, for now, Sorcha?" and father's smile widened. "For the sake of the wee doctor that can'na understand us Scots when we speak in Gaelic, daughter." He chuckled, shoulders bouncing with haliarity.

Jamie knocked him in the shoulder and gave him a look I did not really understand. They had a short burst of an exchange. It consisted of facial expressions, eyebrow gestures and thumping the other on the shoulder over the course of the conversation. Something about _wife verse daughter._ I did not catch it all, but is was most definately about me. My father, who is also Jamie's godfather, and my husband seemed to do this bit of back and forth banter quite often. Funny, I'd never noticed it before.

"Fine. In English then." I cut in.

They both stopped their private little war.

"First," and I turned to the doctor. "May I have something for my head? I have a spliting headache. Some water as well, please. Next, what, exactly, is in this IV you have me hooked up to? Third, why am I here? What's wrong with me?"

The good doctor replied, "First - Yes, I will have the nurse bring you water and something for your headache. Not a problem. She brought you ice chips and handed me a syrofoam cup and a spoon. Second – The IV is basically a Saline solution to keep you hydrated. Third – You were trasported in. You were hit by a bus. Your head hit both the bus and the pavement fairly solidly, leaving you with bi-lateral head lacerations that required stitches. I am thinking there was definately a concussion involved. Knocked out cold and broke your arm as well, a simple break of the humerus. You scared the Major and the Captain half to death, I think," as she nodded to my husband and father, "as well as us here at hospital. We are in the process of admitting you. Does that help answer some of your questions?" the doctor said with a smile and patted my hand.

"How long have I been here?" I asked and looked at Dr. Campbell.

"Almost half a day, Claire." Doctor Campbell stated. "Transport brought you and the Major in at 11:23 am. It's..."

"'Tis 8:06 pm now, lass. Why? Are ye hungry?" Murtagh inquired. "I could get ye a cup of tea, if ye'd like. Some biscuits..."

"Oh, that does sound lovely." I anwered and smiled at my father. "Though I think I would prefer a bannock. I might when I get to my room, for now I am happy with the ice chips."

"Could you please remove the IV?" I asked politely as I spooned in several ice chips. I allowed them to melt and then swallowed.

"I would like to leave it in until the bag is empty, then not a problem. I'll make mention of it to the floor nurse." Dr. Campbell explained.

"I assume a more permenant, plaster cast will be placed at some point today?" I spooned in several more chips and chewed a couple this time. Breaking them into smaller sizes, then swalllowed. My throat was begining to feel less parched, less raspy.

"Yes, I would have the on-call orthopaedist would have been in to see you by now. I'll have one of the nurses follow up on that." Dr. Brown said. "Anything else then?" and she scanned the room.

"Good, then Claire, if you don't mind, I would just like to clarify something. Major Fraser... " Dr. Campbell began.

"Jamie." I reminded her of his name.

"Yes, Jamie. He is your husband?"

"Yes. Most definately." And I looked at Jamie and smiled.

My husband did his winky-blinky thing in reply. God I loved my husband, and my smile grew.

"And Captain Fraser? You believe he is your father?"

"No" I said with a furrowed brow.

"Oh?" said Dr. Campbell as Jamie and Murtagh knitted their brows in confusion.

"No, I do not believe. I _know_ Murtagh FitzGibbons Fraser is my father." I clarified.

Murtagh snorted and smiled as he rocked back on his heels. Such a proud, honored smile he wore. My father loved me very much.

"I see." Dr. Cambell said. "Do you remember when you were married?"

I thought for a moment. "I remember the small church. I remember my father walked me down the aisle" and I smiled at Murtagh. I thought again. "I remember you" I said looking at Jamie, "You and Murtagh wore your Fraser colors. You looked so handsome, Jamie. It melted my heart to see you. I practically ran down the aisle..." I closed my eyes at the memory. "I carried the forget-me-nots you sent to me that morning, instead of my bouquet... "

And my husband stopped me with a kiss. Another toe curler. And when he began to pull away, I grabbed him by the shirt and made him deepened the kiss.

My father cleared his throat.

And when Jamie finally pulled away, I could see he didn't want the kiss to ever end and sadness filled his eyes. "No please... Murtagh. Don't." Jamie turned and beseached his godfather. "It's alright... Please Doctor, she's fine." He turned to Dr. Campbell and implored. "My Claire is fine... it's all good... "

"Jamie, lad, ye ken..." Murtagh began.

Dr. Campbell intrupted. "Claire, I would like to have a word with... Jamie... and Captain Fraser. Would you mind if I took them up to my office? I'll have them back to you before your cast dries... Before they move you to your room... I promise." She smiled a smile that I did not like. There was something untruthful about it. About her whole face, her entire demenor.

"Could you give us a minute Doctor?" Jamie asked very politely. "I just want to reasure my wife. I believe she is a little frighten. She has, after all just been in a serious accident. Murtagh and I will meet you at the nurses station, in just a minute. Please." He said and gave her the look that makes any woman putty in his hands.

Dr. Campbell's eyes shifted between the three of us and I could see she was uneasy about leaving us alone...

My father said, "'Tis alright Doctor. We just want a moment alone with the lass. It will give ye a chance to find out about the cast and such." He raised his eyebrows at her. Dr. Campbell acquecended, turned and left my little area, opening the curtain wide as she could as she left. There would be a clear view from the nurses station.

XXCEBXX

Jamie POV

"Claire... You know I love you. With all my heart..." I begged her to understand.

"Yes Jamie. And I you." Claire told me with her glass face full of the love I ken she held for me. Finally, FINALLY she was showing me her heart. Her truth. And the Doctor thought something was wrong.

"Jamie, lad.." My godfather began. "Ye ken ye can'na..."

"I ken, Murtagh" I almost shouted at him. "I ken," said with more kindness and softness.

"Sassenach... The accident... the bus hit ye pretty hard."

"Yes." she nodded in emphasis. "Dr. Campbell says I have stitches on both sides of my head." She acknowledged and touched the white bandage wrapped around her head. "It's alright. The stitches can be removed in about a week. My hair will grow back, my love. Does it look so very awful? Do I look a fright?"

"No Claire. You could never be anything other than beautiful in my eyes." I told her sweetly. "I was just think'n that maybe when they release ye, we could... maybe renew our vows, ye ken. Just yoo and me and Murtagh..."

"And Fergus?" Claire asked. "Since our son could not there for our wedding, perhaps we could make sure he could be present when we renew our vows..." She smiled and I felt like my heart was going to burst. "I would like that very much Jamie."

"Then 'tis a date mo ghaol. _(my heart)_ Yoo, me, Murtagh and Fergus. Paris. Aye?" And I kissed her hard. I had a bad feeling about what the Doctor was going to say. So did Murtagh. I was no' going to loose Claire again.

"The Doctor is look'n Jamie. We'd best go. Sooner we have our wee chat, the faster we get back to Claire. Isn't that right lass?" And Murtagh placed a kiss on Claire's cheek. "If yer no' down here, we'll find what ever room they've put ye in. No worries _mo nighean,_ the lad and I will find ye, where ever ye are."

XXCEBXX

Jamies POV

Dr. Campbell cleared her throat as she closed the office door behind us after we entered. "Have a seat gentlemen," she said as she motioned to the two chairs sitting in front of her desk. She took a seat behind the desk, facing us.

"Look, I don't know what kind of game you two are playing at, but Claire is neither your wife" and she looked directly at me, "nor your daughter" and she looked at my godfather. "Maybe you two think that you are helping Claire by playing along, but it doesn't AND you" and she looked directly at me, "most definately, crossed a line when you kissed her.

"Aye, I ken" I admitted shamefully. "I half expected her to snap out of it when I did, if that helps ye any." I kept my eyes focused on my hands sitting in my lap. I really had not excuse for taking advantage of Claire's state of mind the way I did. I had her. She was mine. It was finally all worked out, until Laoghaire... No. No, that was no' fair. I was the one that couldn't man up and tell either Claire my heart or Laoghaire the truth. This all started with me.

"Why is the lass confused?" Murtagh asked. "From the thump on the head?"

"I'm not really sure. A head injury is the most likely cause. A blow to the head can lead to confusion. A problem with short term memory, especially in the early stages of a recovery. She does know who she is, although, if questioned I'm not sure she could explain why her last name is Beauchamp and you," she spoke looking at Murtagh, "her father's last name is Fraser. The same last name as her husband. But then I don't suppose any memory loss gets everything right."

"So how do we handle this, Dr. Campbell? Ye do no' wish us to upset her and contradict her but ye do no' wish for us to lie to her either. I do'na see how we can have it both ways. Especially since she now believes what she thinks she kens is real." Jamie stated as succinctly as he could.

"That may very well be Major Fraser. But just because Claire believes you to be her husband, does not mean I am going to allow you to act like you are. Do you understand me?" Dr. Campbell glared at me as she spoke. "I will have to do more research, but in most cases the confusion is not in memories, but in recent happening. Whether she'll remember the way thinks happened or only beleive what she believes happened... we will have to wait and see. The mind is a tricky thing."

I don't think the good doctor much cared for me. I did'na ken. I only cared about what was best for Claire right now. "How long will ye keep her in hospital, then?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. Now that the trac is out and she's breathing on her own. We are certain there is no major back or neck issues... We need to get that arm of her's set and we will keep her for a couple of days for observation, for sure. She lives alone, no one to watch over her there." Dr. Campbell held up her hand at me. "And before you say anything about moving in and taking care of her, it will be over my dead body. You can just perish that thought." She ended with a "tisk, tisk".

"I've found somethi'n about a Dissociative Amnesia..." Murtagh said as he used his phone for a search of amnesia. I leaned over and looked at his phone screen.

"Yes," Dr. Campbell said. "But that's rare. It ususally psychogenic in origin. It's usually brought on by some sort of trauma or emotional shock." She looked at us and then fiddled with her pen. "Claire was fine hit by a bus. Nothing psychological about that. Purely phyical."

I swallowed. Hard. My godfather coughed. The Doctor Campbell looked at us like our heads were on fire.

"Out with it gentlemen. Tell me what you know..."

Almost an hour later, the Doctor released us. Murtagh's stomach was make'n noise so we went down and got him somethi'n te eat and went back to A&E to find Claire. A&E sent us Orthopaedics, to have her arm set. When we finally found them, in that maze of a hosptial, they said they'd never seen her. She was suppose to be brought from A&E but she had never shown. They looked up her room number for us and so we went there. Her bed was empty. Did not even look as if she'd been in it. Her lunch tray was on the table by the bed. I lifted the lid. Nothing had been touched. I went down the hall to the nurse's station to ask where Claire was. The nurse said she had not come up from A&E yet.

It took them an hour, but the hospital finally realized they had lost Claire. Lost a woman with a broken arm and a head injury. With amnesia. They found the tech that had wheeled Claire to Orthopaedics in a wheel chair and they found the wheelchair still in the waiting area along with her IV bag. Just no Claire. Claire's phone was smashed in the accident. Her clothes were cut off her and thrown away. The only thing she had were those florescent pink and green asesics of hers. She was in a Johnny with a bandage around her head and those obnoxious shoes on her feet. Where could she be?


	12. Chptr 11: Sorcha Found

Marriage Material - Chapter 11 Sorcha found

Murtagh quickly cleared customs and made for the military vehicle waiting for him, driven by one of the local team members. What was the lad's name? Fred? George? Peter? He ken he really should try and remember their surnames or at least look at their uniform name tape. Murtagh climbed in and told the driver, "Take me to her," and looked out the window the entire drive in from the airport. Sunny, warm and not a cloud in the sky. _I hate France, Paris in particular_ he thought to himself. No' just the weather, hated the food, he hated the city's feel and smell, he did'na speak the language and do'na get him started on the damn locals... _Shite_ , he even hated the wine. Murtagh would be perfectly happy with a good stout ale, room temperature, no' chilled or a single malt whisky. He just wanted to get in, confirm the target's identity, hopefully it's Claire, extract her, and get them the 'ifrinn back on next plane back to Scotland with its lovely cold temperatures and rain. And te Jamie. Intelligence better be correct on this one. No screw ups. This was one of their own and they have been looking for her for almost 2 months now. An all out search.

"Is the lad sure? Did we confirm the identity with our contact on site? Murtagh demanded.

"Well, no sir. Lieutenant-Colonel McKenzie issued specific orders; under no circumstances, were we to approach or attempt contact if we located her. We were told that she was a flight risk. I mean we've had a boarder alert on her for six weeks now. We've been watching for her to possibly enter France; we had no idea she was already here. We are still trying to find out how she got in," the driver stated as he skillfully swerved in and out of Paris traffic. "The Lieutenant-Colonel is her team commander, and was contacted when her personal belongings showed up at headquarters. We did not know what to do with them. We did not have her listed as assigned here. The Lieutenant-Colonel unexpectedly arrived the next day and said he would personally take care of the items," the driver said. "That was almost seven weeks ago." Geeze, don't these guys communicate in Scotland, the driver thought to himself. They all worked out of the same base, for Christ's sake.

Murtagh's heid was spinning. The lass had been missing almost two months now. Dougal ken Claire's personal items arrived in Paris seven weeks ago, almost right after she went missing and said nothing to the lad. He had a bad taste in his mouth about this. He did'na care for Dougal MacKenzie on a good day. If he'd ken Claire might have been in France for seven weeks and said noth'n te Jamie... Jamie was no' gonna like it.

"My orders are to take you directly to the site." the driver continued to talk. "Your operative is waiting for you there, sir. He's the one that came to us with the visual on her, two days ago. That's why we contacted you straight away." Jesus, the Captain was hot under the collar about this one. Only a Captain and barking orders like the Lieutenant-Colonel himself. This old guy must have some connections because he doesn't have the rank to take this kind of attitude, the driver thought to himself. Who the hell was she that they had an all points search for her anyway? He maneuvered the car expertly through the Paris traffic, taking side streets in his effort to get to the rendezvous spot. They were in the old section of the city now. The car bumped along on the cobblestone roads. He hardly noticed the architecture of the buildings they pass or the flying buttresses of the church as they pulled up. He wanted this Captain out of his car so he could get back to the peace and quiet of his little cubical. He hated people yelling directives at him.

Murtagh reviewed the intel they had on her in his head as they drove. Claire had been hit by the bus and rushed to Inverness A&E. He and Jamie had left Claire in A&E to have a conversation with the Doctor in her office on the three floors up. Temporary Amnesia that's what Dr. Campbell had called it when Claire regained consciousness that day and started speaking Gaidhlig. Dr. Campbell could not say how long it would last. Thank God Claire had placed Jamie as next of kin so the damn Doctor would even talk to us about the diagnosis and test results. That was so like Claire. Always thinking ahead, planning for the next step. Then some tech was suppose to take the lass to have her broken arm set and somehow managed to lose her.

Only when Jamie and he had found Claire's flat empty, all furniture and belongings gone, did Dougal share that Claire had requested a transfer to their operations in Greece a few days before the wedding. And that he, as her superior officer, had granted it. She no longer wanted to be a part of the team after Jamie was married. Wanted nothing more to do with him, Dougal said was the reason Claire had given him. That did no make any sense to him. If you were relocating to Greece, why send personal items to France. And, Claire had said nothing to him about transferring. When she woke up in hospital after the accident, she had declared that she and Jamie were married. No way was Claire going anywhere without _her husband_. That made Murtagh smile. The lass was a witty one.

And why Greece of all places? Claire had never said any such thing to him about Greece. Claire was like a daughter to him. She had even called him _father_ when she woke after the accident. _No,_ she would never have put in for a transfer and no' discussed first. Yes, she was _ifrinn_ mad at Jamie after the Stag Party but things had been repaired just minutes before the accident. _No._ Murtagh was sure Claire would have said something to him.

He'd remembered Claire's boxes, the ones left behind in her flat waiting to be picked up by the shipping company the landlord had said. They had been addressed to Paris Headquarters. When he called Paris Headquarters to inquire after them, Murtagh found that they had arrived but were now missing. Gone. That was two weeks' after she went missing.

Then there was the note the lad across the hall had for Jamie. Said to please take Fred to Lallybroch. _They_ could pick him up from Ian when they returned. _They_ who exactly. He and Jamie and Ian had argued that one for hours. Murtagh ken that if the letter was left to Jamie, then _They_ must certainly mean Jamie _and Claire._ Jamie's reply was always the same... "Why did'na she tell me where, aye Murtagh? She never told me where we were returning from."

Murtagh smelled a rat and that the rat's name was MacKenzie so he'd circumvented the man and contacted Fergus, Jamie's adopted lad. Fergus was living in Paris, attending Université just as Jamie had when he was the lad's age; Jamie pay'n the tab. The lad was a wonder. There was nothing that went on in Paris that Fergus could no' find out about. He had contacts and friends everywhere. Jamie had found Fergus when he was only twelve. The lad was work'n the streets as pick pocket when he made the mistake of trying to pick Jamie's. They took a shine to each other right from the start, and for the rest of the six months Jamie was there training new recruits, Fergus lived with him. The lad's given name was Claudel, but want'n to be braw like Jamie, had requested he be given a more manly name, a Scottish name. Jamie had suggested Fergus and the name stuck. When Jamie returned to Scotland, he brought Fergus with him and has been like a da to the lad. That made Murtagh the lad's grand-godfather, or "Grand Parrain" as Fergus likes to teasingly call him. Claire had referred to Fergus as their son, her's and Jamie's, when she was in hospital. If you could have seen the way those two looked at each other when the lass had said that... I ken somethi'n was wrong for her to just disappear. Amnesia or no', it was'na somethi'n Claire would have done. No' to Jamie.

After a week of no information on Claire, and watch'n as Jamie made himself crazy with worry for her, Murtagh had asked Ian to review the hospital surveillance tapes, personally. Ian ken they would need to go back to the beginning and track her movements. Ian was the team's IT guru and damn good at his job too; losing part of his leg had no' hindered him a bit and was actually the first team member to meet Claire. She said having the knee would make a huge difference in what Ian would be able to do, physically, and she was right. He could do almost anything with that prosthesis that he had been able to do before the accident; except he could not complete the obstacle course and that prevented his return to field work. It had been a real blow to the team. They missed his quick wit and friendly nature.

Ian liked Claire, was fond of her, even though Jenny was set against her as a sister, for reasons I could no' begin to understand and he'd do almost anything for her. Ian wanted to help Jamie, and finding Claire would do that. The whole team wanted the Doc back, so giving up a couple of night's sleep, drinking cup after cup of coffee, staring at his computer screen while he reviewed the mountain of surveillance tapes, he finally found her, where others had failed. Caught her pulling her IV and leave the wheelchair in Orthopaedic waiting room, make it to the doctors locker room and to her personal locker. She changed into scrubs and a surgical cap, to cover the bandages on her head. Apparently she kept some cash, an extra bank card, a key to her flat and a back up phone. She put all of that in her pocket and then went back to radiology. She managed to get a tech to x-ray her arm and using a temporary brace, set the bone herself, with the help of the tech. She then exited the hospital. From there Ian just followed those glow in the dark running shoes of hers and tracked her back to her flat. She had withdrawn a fair amount of cash from her bank machine along the way. Ian found where Jamie and he had arrived at Claire's flat but she was gone by the time they arrived. She had taken her cat across the hall to the neighbor along with the note. Jamie had no idea who he was, though he seemed friendly. Ian never could find tape of her leaving the apartment building. That was still an unknown puzzle piece.

She was smart enough to ditch her cell phone after the bank withdrawal. Clever lass slipped the phone into the suitcase of a tourist leaving the Premier Inn on River Front, in City Centre. They chased that phone all the way to Bern, Switzerland. That had cost them four days. And they scared the poor tourist to death. Ian backtracked and with access to the traffic cameras, found her exiting a taxi at the Inverness bus station, less than an hour after she ditched the phone. She boarded a bus for Edinburgh. The next day, he found her on the platform of the Edinburgh train for London and then somehow Ian had found her at St. Pancras Int'l in London boarding the Eurosta, the high speed Channel Train, from London to Paris 24 hours later. A two hour train ride and she arrived at in Gare Du Nord in Paris and then disappeared into the crowd like a puff of smoke in a breeze. In less than a week. I would never know how Ian had managed it. Ian was blocked access to Paris traffic cameras, so they'd lost her from there. If her boxes where here then so was she. Somewhere. The question was, why?

Then Fergus called and just might have just solved the question of where in Paris Claire was. Two months of searching, Jamie was beside himself with worry. They had to find her. This had to be her.

As the car drew to a stop, it suddenly all made sense to him. Murtagh remembered their last conversation with the lass. The promise she and Jamie made to each other...

" _I was just think'n that maybe when they release ye, we could... maybe renew our vows, ye ken. Just yoo and me and Murtagh..."_

" _And Fergus?" Claire asked. "Since our son could not there for our wedding, perhaps we could make sure he could be present when we renew our vows..."_

" _Then 'tis a date mo ghaol. (my heart) Yoo, me, Murtagh and Fergus. Paris. Aye?"_

She hadn't known how to find Fergus, but she was here, in Paris, somewhere. Murtagh just ken it.

The vehicle stopped in front of a church. Murtagh turned and looked at the driver. "This is it sir. She's inside," the driver said. "Is that your operative walking towards us? Waving?"

He turned. It was, in fact, Fergus. 22 years old now and it suddenly hit him how very much he looked like Claire. Tall, though not quite as tall as Jamie, with the same lithe body and curly, brown hair as Claire. The lad's skin was a light brown, not pale like hers but it could be explained that Claire spent most of her time in surgery whereas the lad was a street urchin and always would be tan. Some of the brown was permanent dirt though, Murtagh was convinced. A perpetual smile on the lad's face; he never let life get him down. Fergus always had a cup half-full kind of attitude, even when he was picking pockets. Murtagh climbed out of the vehicle and dismissed the driver. He would stay with Fergus until he confirmed whether the lass was Claire or no'. He pulled his small carry-on bag from the back seat, turned and embraced Fergus, thumping him hard on the back. A good Scottish embrace if ever there were one.

There was a small café across the street. Fergus said we could have a coffee as he repeated what he knew, for the third time. How the lad had found her as he watched the church to see if Claire came or went as the lad talked. Fergus had just ordered for us, coffee and croissants, when I heard the dragging of iron chairs across the cement.

Two more chairs appeared at the small table and Ian sat down in one of them. A huge shit eating grin on his face, too.

"Milord... et Monsieur Ian" Fergus said with excitement. Jamie embraced Fergus in a quick hug then motioned for Murtagh to change seats with him.

"Murtagh, did not say you were visiting too. I am very pleased to see you and Monsieur, Milord"

"It is wonderful to see you as well Fergus," Jamie began. "Now, I realize ye've told Murtagh a hundred times, but as my godfather has elected na to share this Paris information with me, if ye would be so kind as to repeat what ye ken to get Ian and me up to speed on why we are here," Jamie said and blinked at Ian. "First, why does Murtagh want to watch that church?" He nodded his head at the building across the street.

The waiter delivered two coffees and croissants. Fergus ordered two more and began his tale. "I was at _Marche des Enfants Rouges_ , the local Farmers Market, two mornings ago. I had been craving fraiser fraîches ( _fresh strawberries),_ you see," Fergus explained. "I ran into one of the nuns that work's at the church you are watching. As we walked, I, like the gentleman I was raised to be, was carrying her basket for her and we began to talk." He placed is hand on Jamie's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You see, Mother Hildegarde and I are old friends. Her church was my sanctuary before you found me." Fergus looked at Jamie and smiled. "I could always count on the nuns to look after me, if I was ever hungry or hurt; she said I could always come to her. Sometimes I would stay the night. I would fall asleep under the pianoforte as she played. Belle musique ( _beautiful music_ ) I had never heard before." Fergus added. Murtagh noticed the look of love and fondness in Fergus' eyes as he recalled the memory and in Jamie's as he watched Fergus' face. Never had the lad talked much about this part of his life and Jamie relished the information and insight. Jamie did no' know how to thank this Mother Hildegarde for all she had done, he woould need to do something for the Church to repay the kindness they'd shown the lad.

"I noticed the Mother was making some unusual purchases; herbs for healing she said garlic, aloe, peppermint, lavender, sage, rosemary as well as her usual fruits, vegetables and fish….."

"Get to it man. Jamie does not want to know all that. Tell him what ye ken." Murtagh interrupted.

Jamie placed a hand on Fergus' shoulder and squeezed it. Fergus looked up and smiled, acknowledging that they needed just the straight facts for now. Embellishment could wait for later. His father must really se soucier ( _care) for_ this docteur, perhaps amour...

"Well, I inquired about the herbs and such, Mother Hildegarde started to tell me of a nouveau docteur _(new doctor)_ she had, un volontaire ( _a volunteer_ ). Un Mèdecin Chirurgien assez Britannique ( _A Pretty English Surgeon Docteur)_. Un qui ne parle que le gaélique _(one that only speaks Gaidhlig)._ Nommé Sorcha _(named Sorcha)._ Sorcha Fraser. Mother knew that I lived with you, Jamie, and that you were Scottish and she thought perhaps I could speak to her in Gaidhlig or knew someone that could," he said and grinned. "I accompanied Mother Hildegarde back to the church. I did not know this Sorcha Fraser, nor, as you well know, do I speak Gaidhlig. But Jamie, I know the picture back at à l'appartement ( _the apartment)._ The one of the team you have on your dresser and of la femme (the _woman_ ) in l'image _(the picture)_. I am sure they are the same. Exactement _(Exactly)_. So I have the good Mother take a picture of us together and I send it to you and Murtagh. You do not répondre ( _respond_ ), but _Parrin_ does. Et voila, here you are and I am very glad to see you." and Fergus is all smiles. "Oh, et le docteur parle très bien français aussi." ( _oh, and the doctor speak very good french as well_ ), so I did not need the Gaidhlig.

Murtagh noticed Jamie immediately stopped listening and checked his mail. He opened the e-mail from Fergus again and this time, he looked closely at the picture. It was Claire. He was sure of it. Worn out and confused, but her. "Did Mother Hildegarde say how long she's been here?" Jamie asked Fergus as he passed his phone to Ian so he could take a look. "Do we ken if she is in there now?" There was an excitement to his tone where there had been none since she'd gone missing. They had been looking for her too long. He knew he should not get his hopes up. None of the other leads had panned out. Even the good one that had her in Greece, as his uncle had said. But this picture established that it was her. Fergus and she were together, in the church across the street, yesterday. His heart soared. They had found her. Finally. He was sure. One look at his godfather's face confirmed it. He would hold his Sassenach in his arms before the sun set today. He was sure of it.

"Mother Hildegarde says le docteur arrives every day promptly at huit heures ( _8 o'clock_ ), except on Sundays, so she should be there. I will go in and make sure then come back for you. Oui?" Fergus offered.

"I think that's best, Jamie. I ken you are excited, but let's make sure she is there, first, aye?" Murtagh said. "We do'na want to spook her." Ian nodded in agreement. "Drink your coffee and let the lad check it out," Murtagh offered. "Go lad. Scoot and get back as quick as ye can. Jamie's been worried half out of his mind about her. Get."

Fergus, finished his espresso in one swallow. He rose to leave but stopped , before he took a step, and asked Jamie "Quoi de la méchante blonde avec les belles filles?" ( _What of the nasty blonde with the beautiful daughters?)._

"Ce Fergus, est une longue histoire. Tu sais que nous ne nous smomes pa mariés..." ( _That Fergus, is a long story. You ken we did no marry)._

"Oui mon père."

"Nous ne nous sommes pas mariés parce que je suis amoureux d'une autre femme. Claire. Je pense qu'elle est le docteur qui travaille dans l'église." _(We did no marry because I am in love with another woman. Claire. I think she is the doctor working in the church)._ The look he gave Fergus was one of a man with his heart in his hands. One that acknowledged he owed Fergus more of an explanation, just not now; he would answer any and all of his son's questions as soon as he has Claire in his arms.

Fergus looked at his father's face, for that is what Jamie truly was and would always be to him. He saw the pain and want and nervousness in his father's eyes. The woman his father loved might be hiding in that sanctuary across the street and he had it in his power to help. He smiled at the man that has always been there for him, crossed the road, skillfully dodging the traffic, and disappeared behind the large wooden door of the church.

Fergus had only been gone 20 minutes, but to Jamie it seemed like hours. He could not sit, he was too nervous be still so he began to pace instead. Time stopped. Where was Fergus? He should have be back by now. It was simple reconnaissance. He continued to walk, constantly checking the Church door for any sign of either Fergus or Claire, fingers tapped away on his thigh. This has to be Claire. The Gàidhlig and Sorcha Fraser all match up with the what she had been talking at Hospital. If she was here, then perhaps that's what the note meant...

 _...please take Fred to Lallybroch. They could pick him up from Ian when they returned_.

She had left them a message all along.

XXCEBJAMMFXX

A shrill whistle and there was Fergus waving to us from the Church door. Jamie quickly settled the bill and Ian somehow managed to keep Jamie from just walking across the street, got him to wait for the light to change first. They climbed the steps to the church, well Jamie ran and then waited for Ian and Murtagh.

Fergus led them inside the double entrance and down a long hall. We hear a dog barking. Fergus stops at an open door and knocks.

"Entrez s'il vous plait" _(please enter)_ in a feminine voice is heard. Single file we follow Fergus.

"Mère Hildegarde, c'est mon père Jamie Fraser, mon oncle Ian Murray et mon grand-parrain Murtagh Fraser. Ils sont ici à l'égard du médecin Sorcha Fraser." _(Mother Hildegarde, this is my father Jamie Fraser, my uncle Ian Murray and my Great-Godfather Murtagh Fraser. They are here in regard to the doctor Socha Fraser)_

"I speak a little English, if that would help." the mother said.

Jamie stepped forward. "Fergus has told ye why were are here, has he no'?"

"Yes. You thing that my doctor might be your missing wife? Is that correct?"

"Weel, yes and no. I want very much to marry her, I belief she thinks we are married, but we are not. She was in an accident and struck her head. She has amnesia, _amn_ _é_ _sie_ we believe. We have been looking for her for a long time, presque deux mois. _(almost two months)_ Est-elle ici?" _(Is she here?)_

Jamie's face told her all she needed to know. She nodded her head in reply. "Bouton," and the small white terrier, sitting by the door walked to Mother Hildegarde and sat at her feet. "S'il te plâit amène le docteur à moi" _(please bring the doctor to me)_

The little dog ran from the room.

"It may be a few minutes, if Sorcha is with a patient, she won't leave just because I need her. May I offer you some refreshment?" She motioned to a table off to the side. Water in a glass pitcher with several glasses and some sort of biscuits on a plate.

Murtagh, of course decided to try one of the biscuits and Ian and Fergus each took a seat but Jamie only stood and watched the door. Willing Claire, his heart, walk through it.

Jamie first heard the clicking of the little dogs toenails on the stone floor, running by the sounds of it. Jamie watched as he entered the room and jumped into his mistresses lap. She rewarded him with a piece of her own biscuit.

"Jamie.." He heard her whisper his name and he turned, already starting to feel the tears well in his eyes. It was her. Claire. She was a little thinner, her hair a little shorter and her skin a little tan, not it's usual pale white.

"Claire..." and that was all she needed to hear and she ran the six or seven steps and he surrounded her in his arms and she clung to him and gasped "Dean taing do Dhia. Mu dheireadh. _(Oh Thank God. Finally)_ and she could not stop the tears. _"_ _Bha fios agam gun tigeadh an-diugh. Fhuair mie Fergus mu dheireadh." (I knew you would come today. You see, I finally found Fergus.)_ Neither heard as everyone left the room and closed the door behind them.

Jamie backed Claire against the wall and proceeded to kiss her soundly.


End file.
